


Catching the Second Hand

by nataliving, teleportingoctopi



Series: Streets of Gold [1]
Category: RWBY
Genre: Action/Adventure, Amputation, F/F, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Mutual Pining, Treasure Hunter AU, basically it's a mess, gay angst, undefined relationships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-25
Updated: 2019-02-09
Packaged: 2019-10-15 23:42:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 20,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17538572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nataliving/pseuds/nataliving, https://archiveofourown.org/users/teleportingoctopi/pseuds/teleportingoctopi
Summary: They thought the Relics of the Maidens were a myth, but when Ruby finds a handwritten book proving them all wrong, she just can't help herself.Part One of the Streets of Gold Series.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Buckle up, kids.  
> TW/CW: Graphic Amputation in this chapter.  
> (also forgive typos, we were too excited to read through it all again.)

It all happened so fast.

One minute they were talking, telling him not to count on them in the next tour, and the next his stupid machete was drawn, and he was charging at her.

Blake barely ducked out of the way in time, his blade now imbedded in the post right behind where her head was seconds earlier.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Yang’s words fall on deaf ears as Adam wrenches the weapon free and swings at Blake again.

“YOU THINK YOU CAN JUST LEAVE?”

Blake, her dagger barely out of its sheath, blocks his next swing.

“Adam, stop! Please!”

She rolls away as he strikes the floor where she was.

He raises his blade again, and Blake is cornered out of space to maneuver in the tent.

“Nowhere left to run, Blake.”

Blake’s blood runs cold.

A fist connects with Adam’s face. He flies back, stunned for the moment.

“Blake, go. Now.” Yang’s voice is calm and level. Deadly. Blake doesn’t hesitate.

“This doesn’t concern you, Yang,” Adam spits out, along with a bloody molar.

“I say it does,” Yang retorts, lunging for him. Her fist slams into his jaw, Adam reeling backwards into a desk. Papers fly.

“You’re always _so insubordinate_.” Adam rights himself, machete in hand.

Yang bares her fists. “You don’t own her.” 

He lunges, blade whistling through the air. Yang ducks, a hairs breadth from the blade. “All coming from a flea-bitten gutter rat. Tell me Yang, do you even know what the word ‘loyalty’ means?”

With a swift kick to the diaphragm, Yang places distance between her and Adam. Hacking and wheezing, he falls to the ground, machete biting into the floor. He clutches his chest. 

Yang scoffs, then drops her stance. “We’re leaving, Adam—Blake chose. So stop crying like a little bitch and get the fuck over it.” She turns towards the tent exit.

“ _No_!” He yells. “You walk out that door and it’ll be the _last_ thing _either_ of you do, Yang!”

“You think I’m scared of you?” Yang snorts before making towards the door.

Adam snarls, crossing the distance between them in a second. He swings, again, and catches air as Yang side steps. Using his low position, Adam shifts his weight and slams his shoulder into Yang’s chest.

“ _Enough_!” She shrugs the blow off, her arm already a rocket aimed straight at Adam’s delicate nose.

He’s quicker and stronger than she remembers.

The blade thrusts up to intercept her fist, thin steel piercing straight through her forearm like butter. She can feel the tendons slicing. “You’re lucky,” Adam jeers. He carries the momentum, the blade anchored in a thick wooden post just behind her. “I don’t miss often.” At an angle, Yang dangles by her arm, blood streaming down her elbow. Pain shreds her nerves. She can’t hold back her screams.

There are no more words in Adam’s eyes. He rips the machete from her flesh, bone shattered and cracking through the surface of her skin.

Bleary and no longer pinned, Yang stumbles, her knees buckling. She swings wildly with her good arm, her fist glancing of Adam’s cheek before she feels the sting of the hilt of his machete in her stomach. Winded, she gasps, hunching over.

“No one deserts The White Fang.”

Rage masks the blinding pain in her shredded arm. Yang, fist slippery with blood, slams it into Adam’s nose. A pop. A crack. And more blood flows. He howls, ignoring the spots in his eyes. Reacting as if super human, Adam grabs her by the wrist just as the blow completes.

And hacks. Just above the elbow.

Yang shrieks, the color draining from her face. The tips of her fingers tingle before they go numb. She scrambles to save herself, but Adam pulls on her hacked arm, striking at her bone. It resonates in her toes.

Blood arcs across the tent, spattering against the canvas walls in bright red X’s with each hack.

“ _NO ONE!_ ” With one more decisive swing, Yang finds herself on the ground, stunned. Standing over her is a demon, and in his hands he holds her severed arm as a trophy.

“Now she won’t be able to even _look_ at you without—“ his gloating is cut off by a loud _crack_. Thousands of volts of electricity are pumped straight into his chest.

Blake stands in the doorway, taser locked and loaded.

Adam falls, groaning.

“Yang?” The gun is tossed to the ground. “Oh my _god_ , YANG.” Hands search her body. “Someone get a MEDIC.”

Shining yellow eyes are the last things she sees before losing consciousness.

*

“You have no idea if that is even an authentic source.”

They’ve been arguing for what seems like hours over this and Weiss is more than exasperated. Instead of doing the interior field appraisal like she was assigned to do, Ruby got sidetracked at the small local archive. Wherein she found this book, _smuggled_ said book from the site to the room she shared with Weiss.

So while Weiss was out in hellacious Tunisian sun, cataloguing the site’s exterior architectural details, Ruby was committing crimes against anthropological ethics, not only risking _her_ spot in the Beacon PhD program, but – since they’ve been arguing about this for hours instead of immediately remedying it – Weiss’s spot as well.

“Uh, hand written pages, non fabricated signs of aging, period specific materials. The signs are all there. Plus, it’s literally my job to authenticate books like this!”

Weiss pinches the bridge of her nose. “But instead of doing that, _you stole it_.”

“I can’t wait for academic bureaucracy to run its course! This book is a primary source describing the Relics of the Maidens, Weiss! It details locations, cultural purpose, social—“

“Yes, I know! So you’ve said, over and over for hours!” Weiss exclaims. “And no, you don’t need to repeat that the Relics of the Maidens are literally the topic of your thesis. Believe me I know!”

“So then _why—_ “

“Because it’s _crazy,_ Ruby. And against university policy, and also possibly international law.”

Ruby sucks in a breath, ready to retaliate, when there is a knock on the door.

“We will talk about this _later_ ,” Weiss decides, heading to answer the door.

It’s Pyrrha, holding a phone currently blaring an 8bit version of the Game of Thrones theme.

“Sorry to interrupt, but Ruby left her phone in the lounge, and it’s been going off for 45 minutes and Jaune and I just really can’t take it anymore.”

“Game of Thrones!” Ruby darts to the door, swiping the phone from Pyrrha. “That’s Yang’s ringtone!”

“Yeah, like I said, it’s been going off for awhile—“

“FIFTY MISSED CALLS AND EIGHTEEN VOICEMAILS!” Ruby screams, hastily clicking into her voicemail.

Pyrrha and Weiss’s eyes bug out of their heads, and Pyrrha backs away from the doorway. “I’ll leave you to it then.”

“Yes, thanks for bringing it by,” Weiss says, closing the door. Weiss turns to find Ruby paler than usual.

“Ruby, what is it?”

Ruby’s eyes take a minute to find Weiss’s, shaky and barely focused. “All the voicemails. They were all…”

Ruby sways and Weiss takes hold of her forearms to support her. “Tell me, Ruby.”

Her voice is quiet. “They were all from Blake.”

“But you said—“

“Yang is hurt.”

*

The hospital walls are all the same. White—sterile. She sits in the waiting room, a lukewarm cup of coffee in one hand, Yang’s phone in the other. Blake holds her breath, resting her head against the screen.

Her legs shake.

She can still smell the blood. She squeezes the phone. Blake hasn’t slept in thirty two hours.

“Code blue, room 217. Code blue, room 217.” The voice is calm over the loud speaker. The sound of hurried feet scrambling on linoleum soon follows. Blake stares at the charge nurse sitting at the desk. She’s absorbed in a computer screen, shrugging the chaos in the hallway behind her off.

Sitting up straighter, Blake attempts to gain a line of sight.

“Blake!”

She jumps, coffee drenching her leg. Standing, Blake attempts to rub the liquid off of her.

“What’s happening? Blake!”

Ruby’s arms are around her. Her tongue feels thick in her mouth, the urge to fall apart insurmountable.

“Ruby,” she stares blankly, hardly registering silver eyes and the way they rake up her body taking stock. “It’s Yang.”

“What happened?” she demands, again. “Where is she?”

Blake hardly recognizes Weiss at the nurses’ station. She’s taller. “Hello, we’re here for Yang Xiao Long.” The rigidity in the way she says it is still the same.

“Blake!” Ruby snaps her fingers just beneath her nose.

“Ruby!” Help had finally arrived. Blake sinks back into the chair. “Yang’s been hurt.”

_The sound of bone snapping and cracking haunts her. When Yang shrieks, Blake feels it in her throat._

“Where is she? What happened?”

“The doctor said he’d try to save her, but she’d lost a lot of blood and he wasn’t sure if there was anything they could do.” If Yang died, it was all her fault. It _is_ all her fault. White Fang. Adam. Everything. They sit as shadows on her chest, threatening to suffocate her. 

“ _What_?”

“Miss Xiao Long?” A man appears in the doorway to the left of the nurses’ station. A surgical mask is draped across his neck, scrubs a dark, muddy brown color. Dried blood.

Blake shrugs Ruby off. “Is she okay? Is she…” She can’t finish.

His eyes flick to her left. Blake hadn’t even noticed Ruby following her.

“I’m her sister,” Ruby offers. 

Weighing her explanation, the doctor finally nods his head before motioning towards a few chairs. “Why don’t we sit down.”

“Why, what’s going on?” Frustrated, Ruby crosses her arms.

“Can we just listen to him?” Weiss is at her arm, apparently done with whatever she was doing with the nurse. She slips her arm in Ruby’s and guides her to a seat.

Blake sits, an empty chair between herself and Ruby. She stares at her hands, waiting for him to say _she didn’t make it_.

The doctor kneels in front of them, addressing Blake first. “Miss Xiao Long,” Ruby shoots Blake a weird glance, but doesn’t question it, “There were a few complications during surgery.”

Blake’s fingers grow numb.

“We were forced to transfuse three liters of blood during the procedure. The tendons and nerves were completely fried and despite our best efforts, we couldn’t save the arm.” Saddened, he gently places a hand on Blake’s shoulder. She flinches.

“ _What_ , her _arm_?” Ruby lunges for Blake. “Blake! What happened! Please just _tell me_!” Weiss anchors her back into her seat.

“For the love of your Maidens, can you sit still?”

“She’s going to need extreme physical therapy, Miss Xiao Long. This isn’t going to be an easy transition. The hospital can offer additional services.” The doctor pulls a few pamphlets out of the chart he holds and offers them. “Things might take time to go back to normal.”

“But she’s alive?” Blake perks up.

The doctor smiles. “She is. She’s still under heavy anesthesia, but would you like to see her?”

“Yes! God damnit, that’s what I’ve been trying to do for the past twenty minutes!” Ruby jumps to her feet, making a beeline towards the door he came out of.

“Ruby, you can’t just—Ruby!” Weiss scrambles to follow, barely catching Ruby by the wrist before the door swings closed.

“Room 219,” the nurse says at her station, not even bothering to look up from her computer screen.

“Thank you,” Blake breathes to the doctor. It’s all she can muster before she’s also walking through the door. Ten feet ahead of her, Ruby is dragging Weiss towards what Blake assumes to be Yang’s room.

“Ruby, this is a _hospital_.” Weiss is pulled through a door.

“Yang!” Ruby’s voice is soft, but carries to Blake none the less. When she turns through the threshold, her relief is short lived.

Wires and machines all beep in harmony surrounding Yang like a grim jury. Stopped dead in her tracks, Blake is frozen at the threshold. Electricity snaps in her legs, the urge to run overriding every other thought in her head.

_“Blake chose.”_

She didn’t choose _this_.

“Blake,” Weiss stands to the right of the door just behind Ruby. She offers her hand to Blake, a sad smile on her face. “It’s alright. She’s being taken care of.”

“This wasn’t supposed to happen.” She takes a step back into the hallway.

“I can’t leave you alone, can I? Just look what happens.” Ruby is fussing over Yang’s sleeping form. Silver eyes stare at the remains of her arm.

“Yang needs you, Blake. Now more than ever.” Weiss continues to hold her hand out.

“But this is—if I wasn’t _involved_ , none of this would have happened.” She takes another step back.

“Oh stop it.” Weiss crosses her arms, a scowl on her face. “This isn’t just about you, Blake. This is about Yang.”

Shamed, amber eyes fall to the floor. Like passing through a veil, Blake moves through the threshold. Weiss closes the door gently behind her before going to sit by the window.

Ruby holds Yang’s remaining hand. “Do you remember Rory Jasper and how you beat the shit out of him for calling me a midget? Well, now it’s my turn to beat the shit out of the bully who did this to you. So just open you’re eyes and tell me about it.”

“It was Adam,” Blake says.

“You’re White Fang boyfriend?” Ruby snaps.

Blake flinches, her stomach suddenly heaving. 

“W-we told him we were leaving after our contract was up. We just wanted something _normal_.” Blake sinks to sit on the cold ground. She rests her head back against the cabinets. “He called us deserters. He said we would pay. He drew his machete.”

_Steel ripped through flesh, the sound of hacking meat gagging her._

“He came at me.” Weiss watches Blake intently, arms crossed. “And Yang…and Yang stopped him from killing me. They fought and Adam, he…” Blake buries her face into her hands, holding back the flood of fresh trauma. “…he hacked her arm off, Ruby.”

A body slides down to sit next to her. Arms wrap around her neck. Ruby holds her tight. Protectively. “Oh Blake,” she sighs.

“I didn’t know what to do. I had to get her out. We had to get out. The White Fang wasn’t the place for us anymore. And now, look what I’ve caused.” Hot tears prick at the corners of her eyes. She buries her face deeper into her hands, refusing to let them see her cry.

“We’ve got you now, Blake. Weiss won’t let anything bad happen.”

“Excuse me?”

Blake can feel Ruby’s sheepish smile. “Well, you _won’t_. Yang’s just as much _your_ sister as she—”

“Ruby!”

Blake can’t help but laugh, her smile mixing with hot tears. It’s nice to see that some things never change.

“Like, I’m sure Weiss can conjure up some sort of fix.” Ruby stage whispers at Blake. “Her family is arms dealers, after all.”

“Don’t be an idiot. We supply _weapons_ not ar—” Weiss stops in midsentence. “God damnit, Ruby.” She pulls her phone out and begins frantically tapping on the screen before excusing herself from the room briefly.

“That’s my Weiss!” Ruby gives Blake a thumbs up.

Blake rubs the tears from her eyes. “So does that mean?”

“Sure does!”

Surprised, Blake looks back towards the door. “ _Really_?”

“Well…okay. It’s a work in progress.”

Blake raises a brow.

“She kissed me.” Ruby hugs Blake again.

“I don’t know whether to believe you or not.”

Ruby shrugs. “Weiss doesn’t either.”

“Weiss doesn’t either, what, exactly?” The door pops back open, cool eyes assessing the two bodies sitting on the hospital floor.

“Hm?” Ruby asks innocently.

“Hm?” Weiss parrots.

“What was that?” Blake asks, trying to shift the focus. Ruby and Weiss stare at each other for a second before Weiss rolls her eyes, a small dusting of pink appearing across her nose.

“Ruby, while she’s an _idiot_ , wasn’t wrong. Schnee R&D has been working on something for quite some time and I was just making some calls, that’s all. Call it ‘field testing.’”

Blake doesn’t like the sound of that and Weiss can tell, so she quickly adds, “Which we were just about ready for anyway. This just saves us the trouble of screening for candidates.”

Blake isn’t convinced, but Ruby touches her arm and quietly reassures her. “It’s a really cool project, Blake. Weiss told me all about after a few glasses of wine after midterms.”

“ _Why_ do you have to embarrass me at every opportunity?”

“Because you’re embarrassed face is almost as cute as you blushing, and it’s much easier to embarrass you.” Ruby turns to see said face, and is pleasantly surprised. “Oh, sweet, I made you blush!”

Weiss regains a fraction of her composure and looks anywhere but at Ruby or Blake. “Okay, well, I think it is high time someone makes a food run, and that person is going to me. So,” Weiss forces herself to look at her friends, “Any requests?”

“Teriyaki!” Ruby pipes up immediately, but then thinks better of it. “Unless you want something different, Blake?”

“No, teriyaki is fi—“

“GREAT. Well, I’ll be back in a bit!” Weiss interrupts, exiting, and closing the door behind her in one fluid, rapid motion.

Blake stretches. “You’re going to be,” she fights through a yawn, “the death of her, you know?”

“She’s the one being difficult. “ Ruby appraises Blake’s haggard, coffee stained appearance. “Blake, when is the last time you slept?”

Blake thinks a beat. Then another. “Honestly, I don’t know.”

“Okay, since I’m here now, why don’t you,” Ruby pulls the vinyl hospital lounge chair in the corner up to the side of Yang’s bed, “maybe curl up and rest your eyes.”

“But if she—“

“I promise, I will wake you up if she so much as mumbles in her sleep.”

Blake wants to fight more, but she finds herself moving into the chair anyway. “She mumbles the funniest things sometimes.”

“I know,” Ruby replies, shrugging off her hoodie jacket and draping over an already fading Blake. Only a few minutes pass before Blake is softly snoring.

Ruby turns her attention back to Yang. Several yellowing bruises are forming on her face, and there are small cuts and scrapes all over her body. Even so, she looks so solid, so immovable, so… _Yang_.

Except her right arm is gone, apparently brutally hacked off. Ruby stops herself from going too deep down that rabbit hole right now and instead focuses on the first thought she had when she saw which arm was missing.

_Yang’s handwriting is going to be even worse now._

She almost laughs, but the actual gravity of the situation doesn’t let her. Instead she takes stock of the room. The walls are a really terrible shade of coral. _The Price is Right_ is muted on the TV. On the table on the other side of Yang is a bag, and Ruby doesn’t really think about what it could be until she’s looking inside.

Yang’s things: Her boots and her wallet and keys. Her douchey but amazing on her sunglasses. Her jacket.

Ruby pulls it out, leaving the rest in the bag on the table.

She brings the jacket to her face, inhaling. It smells just like Yang—of course it does. And even though Yang is right there in that hospital bed and she too smells like Yang, until she wakes up and Ruby can hear and see and feel that Yang is really still here...

She pulls on her sister’s jacket and very, very gently curls up beside her sister. And silently prays that she’ll wake up soon.

*

It’s 3 am.

When Blake stirs, she finds Ruby softly snoring curled up next to Yang, the old leather jacket tossed across both of them. It reminds her of college when she’d catch them curled up together—papers and books everywhere—after she got off work at the university bar.

It’s familiar.

Her eyes drift to the missing part of Yang—the part she took by proxy.

“Don’t be so sour.” Her voice is raspy from anesthesia. A blanket of golden hair hides her face, but Blake knows she’s staring out the window. “It’s not a good look for you. 

“Yang.” Blake can hardly speak her name.

“Yo,” she replies. The broken colors of the muted TV wash through the dark room. Beyond the curtains, the Boston city lights dance. And when Yang looks at Blake, they’re dead in her eyes.

Blake leans forward, placing a hand on Ruby’s shoulder, making to wake her.

“Nah.” Yang places her hand over Blake’s. “Let her be.”

“But she’ll—”

“Please.” Their eyes lock, Yang’s mouth a thin line. Dropping her gaze, Blake ceases her movements, the worry and relief flooding over her all at once.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry.”

They say it at the same time, words mixing together awkwardly. They both laugh at the ridiculousness of it all. Yang offers a short smile, melting the shadows sitting on Blake’s chest for just a second.

“You should’ve let me kick the shit out of him,” Yang tries. She winces as she slides into a more sitting position.

“Because you had it handled.”

“Haha. _Hand_ led.” Yang waves said arm in the air.

A furious blush spreads across Blake’s face. “You know what I mean.”

The door clicks open, light slicing the darkness in half. Weiss stands in the doorway, a bundle of papers in her arms, her nose towards the ceiling.

“So you’re still following my sister around, I see.”

“We _live_ together.” Weiss slams the stack down onto a desk before crossing her arms.

“You’re dating now? That’s great.”

“Wait—no! We’re _colleagues_.”

“Yeah, so are me and Blake.” The blush is palpable throughout the room. Yang can’t help but smirk.

Weiss snorts audibly. “Here I am, out of the goodness of my _heart_ , trying to help you and _still_ you take stabs at me. I’m appalled, Yang.” She motions towards the stack of papers. “Not that _anyone_ seems to care, but I just spent the better part of the evening sorting out the paperwork for your new arm.” Yang and Blake look between each other, sharing a perplexed grimace. “You’re _welcome_.”

“Oh thank god, I’m _starving_.” Ruby stirs and sits up with a large yawn.

“Yeah, you’re welcome for that, _too_. I hope it gives you all _gas_.”

Ruby bursts out laughing. “Weiss, you just said—yanno—gas.”

“I’m surprised the Ice Princess even knows what that is.” Yang snickers.

“ _Yang_! Ohmigoshyoucan’tjustscaremelikethat!” Ruby says it in one long winded take, the atoms of her body seeming to vibrate against each other. She throws herself at Yang with reckless abandon.

Yang yelps, falling back into the bed, her sore stump slammed into the side railing. Ruby pulls back, face twisted in worry. “Are you okay? Are you dying? Do I need to go get a doctor? Are you relapsing? Ohmygod are you relapsing?” She hurriedly checks all up and down her sister.

“From what, Ruby—Yang’s arm was amputated, she isn’t addicted to heroine.” Weiss retrieves a small plastic bag with Styrofoam boxes off of the counter.

“That’s a nice way of saying ‘Yang’s arm was hacked up with a machete,’ so thanks, Weiss.” Yang pushes Ruby down, attempting to gain some distance.

“I’m a charitable person, I know,” she says with a sigh as she sits on the end of Yang’s bed and offers the cold food to her companions. “We do need to speak, though, Yang.”

Ruby grabs for the food.

“About?” Blake perks up. She slides closer to the hospital bed, hands unconsciously fiddling with the hem of the blanket. No one notices when Yang stills her fidgeting with her own hand.

A warmth spreads in her chest. A warmth she desperately attempts to beat down. She doesn’t deserve to feel this. She slips her hand out from beneath Yang’s, drawing her knees up to her chest. Violet eyes burn craters into the side of her face. She heats under Yang’s intense stare.

“I’ve called my father and he’s agreed to test run the Gauntlet795. If you’re willing, Yang, he’d like to outfit you for immediate neurological synchronization.” Weiss retrieves part of the overbearing stack of papers and lays it in her lap. “It’s not guaranteed to be compatible with your neurological stems, but there’s a chance you get _an_ arm—not you’re arm, but _an_ arm.”

“Like…a robot arm?” Ruby says around rice. She’s shoveling the cold teriyaki into her mouth at an alarming rate. Weiss grimaces then rolls her eyes. She can’t help when the corner of her mouth twitches.

“We prefer to use the term _prosthetic_.”

Blake frowns. “And this has been in development by the Schnee Company?” Bullets rattle in the base of her stomach.

“795 is the best of the best. I have utter faith in the doctors to attach it successfully, this time. If you’re willing, Yang.” Weiss crosses her hands in her lap.

“ _This time_?” Ruby and Yang exclaim together.

“It’s very unlike you to place your trust in general surgeons, Weiss,” Blake mentions.

“Oh no, I fired them.”

“ _What_?” Ruby and Yang again. Blake loves it when they act this way. So eerily similar, yet polar opposites at the same time.

“Weiss, you can’t just _fire_ the doctors,” Ruby tries. She gently touches her arm as if she’s breaking news to a three year old.

“Well, I can and I did. I simply don’t trust anything outside of Mayo Clinic—and Yang will receive nothing but the best.” She huffs.

Ruby softens before laying her head on Weiss’ shoulder. “Aw, Weiss. You’re so thoughtful.”

Red streaks Weiss’ porcelain skin, causing her whole face to flare up in the dimly lit room. “No, I’m simply just taking care of my fa—” she stops herself from saying it. “This helps the Schnee Company as much as it helps you, alright?”

Ruby smirks, poking Weiss’ cheek. “Yeah, okay.”

Yang shifts on the bed. “And I’d get an arm back?” She glances at Blake.

“Am I mumbling today or did you also suffer a concussion?” Weiss scowls.

Blake shakes her head, her fingers fidgeting with a loose thread on her pants. Yang watches her.

“No guts no glory—why not.” Yang shrugs.

“Great! I already took the liberty of scheduling everything out. Now we just have to wait for Gauntlet795 to arrive and you’ll be good as new.” Weiss begins handing Yang papers with highlighted lines where she needed to sign.

Violet eyes empty as they scan the pages. Yang’s hand trembles when she holds the pen and scribbles an offhand approximation of her signature. Blake wonders if Yang will ever be the same again.

*

The attachment surgery goes perfectly. That’s what the surgeon said and Weiss said she was the best in the field, so Ruby is inclined to believe her.

But when Yang wakes up, well, that doesn’t go perfectly.

“Yang, can you open your eyes?” 

Yang groans quietly as her eyes flutter open, bleary. Her voice is slurred from the anesthesia. “Whazzup?”

The surgeon smiles softly, clearly suppressing a laugh, and it endears her to Ruby because she is doing the exact same thing.

“Okay, now Yang, I’m going to touch your left arm. Tell me when you feel it.”

“But itzmy righarm thatz fucked,” Yang says clearly confused. Ruby has to work really hard not to roll her eyes at the fact that ‘fucked’ is the word that comes out clearest.

“Just do what the doctor says, smartass,” Ruby scolds gently.

The surgeon presses on Yang’s left bicep. “I feellit.”

“Great. I’m going to work my way down to your fingers.”

“Okay,” Yang says clearly confused in her groggy state. Her eyes drift closed as her brow furrows. Weiss explained that ‘engaging the nerves of the left arm will help create a mirror nerve map for the Gauntlet795 to follow’ but that was after Yang had already been taken into surgery. “You could buya girl dinner firs.”

That actually earns a short laugh from Blake and another when Yang sleepily attempts to form a finger gun with her left hand, and everyone is thankful for the relief from tension.

“Okay, Yang. Now I’m going to do the same on your right arm.”

“Fine.”

All eyes are on the surgeon’s hand as she brings her fingers to Yang’s right shoulder.

“Do you feel that?” Yang nods, so the surgeon moves to the prosthetic. She gets all the way down to the right palm when Yang speaks again. “Don’t leaveme hangin here, Doc.”

“Wait, does that mean—“ Ruby starts to ask, but the surgeon holds up her other hand to stop her.

“I think that’s enough for right now, Yang.” She keeps her voice at an even keel, betraying nothing to Yang. “You get some rest and I’ll come by to check on you in a bit.”

“Whatevayousay,” is Yang’s only response. She’s sleeping within in seconds, and the surgeon ushers Ruby, Weiss, and Blake out of the room.

The door is barely closed before Ruby pounces. “You said the surgery went perfectly.”

The surgeon nods. “Because it did.”

“Then why can’t she feel anything?” Blake asks, her desperation is clear.

“Because this is a work in progress. I’ve been working very closely with the Schnee Company as they developed the Gauntlet project, and as much as this must be hard to swallow, this is normal.”

“The whole point of using this prototype or whatever is that she has the closest thing to a functioning arm as she can get. How is this normal?” Blake counters.

“Look, in a limb reattachment or transplant surgery, there is always a rehab period as muscle strength and sensation are slow to return. While the Gauntlet project’s ultimate goal is to shorten that time, this is still a prototype, so we should at best expect a normal rehab time.” The surgeon focuses on Blake. “Mrs. Xiao Long, this isn’t going to be overnight, but sensation _will_ return.”

“When?” Blake’s question is quiet, but the desperation is still there.

“Truthfully, I don’t know. I was optimistic that she would feel something when she woke, but we’ll keep doing the mirror map therapy, and hopefully she’ll have something by the time she’s discharged.”

“And if she doesn’t?” This time, Ruby asks.

“Then you three just have to keep working with her. Have patience, stay determined, and don’t let her give up.”

Ruby nods, and Weiss notices a bit of her signature spark return to her eyes. Weiss finds comfort in it. She watches Blake look to Ruby, and then nod in her own kind of resolve as well. Weiss hopes it’s enough.

*

Yang’s discharged from the hospital a week later. She occupies the guest room at Ruby and Weiss’ shared brownstone.

(“So you _are_ dating!” Yang had declared triumphantly upon finding out.

“We’re _roommates,”_ Weiss corrected.

“’…And they were roommates,’” slipped out of Ruby’s mouth before she could stop herself which wins her a snort from Blake and a glare from Weiss.)

Yes, Blake stays, too, which is a little shocking, if Yang is honest. She thought for sure she’d wake up in the hospital alone. Yang could hardly handle what was happening, and Blake "Avoids Confrontation and Stress At All Costs" Belladona was surely about to unravel.

The sensation in her arm is limited—it mostly feels like pins and needles. Two weeks living with Ruby and Weiss and Yang’s broken more glasses and plates, expecting her muscles to function. 

It begins to weigh on her.

She sits in a window seat staring sourly out to the backyard. It’s raining, the heavy patter soothing. A book is laid open on the seat next to her.

“She hasn’t turned the page in an _hour_ ,” Ruby whispers. She stands peeking behind the threshold to the kitchen. Weiss, her hand on Ruby’s arm, stands in cover.

“A certain level of mental adjustment is expected.” Weiss attempts to reassure Ruby, but by the confused frown on her face, Weiss knows it fails. “Yang will be back to herself in time.”

“Really? When is the last time you saw Yang voluntarily pick up a book to begin with?” Ruby hiss-whispers.

Yang rests her head on her knees, good arm clutching the tech. “I’m a cyborg now, Ruby,” she mutters from her seat.

“What? Who? Me?” Ruby stumbles out into the kitchen, a sheepish look on her face. “You want some coffee?” she tries to redirect the conversation.

Yang’s dead eyes stare out at the grass. She doesn’t say anything, simply glances at her book before flipping the page.

The front door squeals open announcing Blake’s arrival. Weiss retreats to intercept her. The stench of cigarette smoke clings to Blake’s hair. A paper bag is jostled in her arms as she moves through the front foyer. Weiss grimaces.

“Blake Belladonna, this household is strictly no smoking.” Weiss takes the bag from her and peers inside briefly. Supplies for dinner. Weiss clicks her tongue. “Kraft Macaroni and Cheese? Do you know what this will do to your body?”

Blake’s lip twitches, ignoring Weiss’ critiques. “Has Yang finished with her exercises?” Blake slips her shoes off—another Schnee rule.

“Ugh, no.” Weiss waits for Blake to fall into step with her towards the kitchen. “You need to go talk some sense into your fucking _wife_.”

Blake’s blush is subtle—Weiss finds it suitable.

The bubbly sound of boiling water emanates from the kitchen, and Weiss knows Ruby has started making coffee.

“How long has it been since she last worked with it?” Blake asks. She’d been out almost every day attempting to find some sort of work in the area since White Fang was no longer a suitable option and she had to make a living for them _somehow_.

“Three days,” Weiss grumbles.

They arrive in the kitchen, Ruby already having four white porcelain mugs out on the island. Weiss refuses to drink anything other than French press and espresso, so Ruby is heating up some water. She doesn’t seem to mind, though. Her smile is soft, like she’s finally _home_.

Weiss deliberately focuses on the groceries, but watches Ruby humming over the coffee out of the corner of her eye. Blake raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t say anything.

Yang continues to sit on the bench, her shoulders sagging—defeated. Not at all like the Yang she knows. Blake retrieves a small package of powdered donuts from the grocery bag—Yang’s favorite. Quietly, she pads her way and sits down at the very edge of the window seat.

Briefly, Yang looks at her before turning back to the window. Her right arm hangs limply at her side, fingers curling like dead petals. Gently, Blake presses the package into the dead palm.

Yang’s lip twitches, looking down at the offering in her altered hand.

“I thought you might want something fatty,” Blake coaxes with a soft smile. In her pocket, her phone begins to vibrate. Scowling, she pulls it out quickly before rejecting the call. She doesn’t even look at the screen.

“You think that Hostess donuts will fix _this_?” Yang says dangerously quiet. Ruby and Weiss freeze at their positions in the kitchen, desperately trying not to intrude on the moment, but finding it impossible.

“No, that’s not—” Blake shrinks back.

“Like you don’t want to run,” Yang snarls.

“Hey! No! Bad!” Ruby throws a towel at Yang. It hits her and falls to the floor.

“Shut up, Ruby,” Yang growls.

“No, _you_ shut up!”

“Ruby,” Weiss warns.

“Just cuz something bad happened doesn’t mean you get to be a whiny little baby forever. So you lost your arm—get over it! Now you’re like Edward Elrich and Cyborg put together, so you’re practically a super hero.” Ruby ends by pouring the boiling water into the French press—nope, definitely on her hand.

 _“Frak me!”_ she squeaks as she corrects her pour, and somehow Weiss is already there with a cold wash cloth. She clicks her tongue as she wraps it around Ruby’s hand.

Blake, eyes cagey, looks between the sisters. Her heart stammers in her chest, threatening to strangle her.

Yang trembles.

“What do you know Ruby?” Yang stares at the donuts blankly. Her index finger twitches. “I should kick your ass for comparing me to one of your weeb characters.”

Blake fidgets.

Weiss watches the whole scene unfold in quiet contemplation.

“Well, I certainly seem to know more than _you_ do, ya big dolt.” Ruby plunges the French press, mouth a thin line. “Now stop being mean to Blake.”

“Fuck off,” Yang says turning back to the window.

There aren’t enough knives in the kitchen to cut the tension. Thunder rolls outside. Blake glances out the window, following Yang’s gaze. When Blake stands, it surprises her just as much as it surprises everyone else. She’s never been bold. But seeing Yang broken, it does something to her.

Grabbing her newly aluminum wrist, Blake pulls Yang to her feet.

“Wha—hey! Blake!” Yang attempts to resist, but fed up, Blake pulls Yang towards the back door. It slams behind a feebly struggling Yang.

Weiss can’t hide her smile.

“Should we maybe go after them?” Ruby peers into the back yard, Blake and Yang warped in the downpour.

“Everything is going to be fine, Ruby.” Weiss slides around the island, reaching across Ruby to grab her cup. “Three sugars please.” She places it deliberately in front of Ruby and walks back towards the living room.

Ruby can’t help but smile after her.

*

“You can’t give up,” Blake says like its fact. The rain pours around them.

“This had to be done out here?” Yang attempts to go back inside, the light blue of her shirt beginning to turn translucent, slowly revealing a black lacey bra underneath.

“Yes, Yang. It has to be here.” Blake blushes but keeps her hold tight. “You can’t just sit there on that bench and pout about all the _hard work_.”

“You don’t even _know_ , Blake!” Yang yells. Thunder rolls in the distance.

“I don’t?” Amber eyes deepen and Yang finds her anger stuck in her throat. A shiver shakes her spine, as the seven inch scar along Blake’s left thigh flashes into her mind.

“I-I—” 

“No, please, go on.” Blake takes a step back and crosses her arms. Yang watches the rain dapple her face, the angry red of her cheeks bleeding through.

“There’s—” Yang’s fists tighten. “What’s the point? It’ll _never_ work!” Her words are sharp.

“Surviving—that’s the point, Yang. I thought you _knew_ that.” Blake turns her back. “But if you want to abandon that, then by all means—sit out here in the rain and suffer. But don’t forget that we are all here in the rain _with_ _you_.”

Guilt hits Yang like a kick in the teeth. She catches Ruby peering out the window before ducking out of sight.

“And we’re going to be out here with you whether you like it or not.” She’s grabbing for the doorknob when Yang stops her, fingers grasping the back of her shirt like a child. Blake turns back towards her. “We’ll wait forever, if that’s how long it takes.” She motions towards Yang’s arm. “You’re stronger than you know.”

Looking down at her arm, Yang finds a crushed sleeve of donuts, obliterated by the gears of her new arm. She blinks, a sudden weight lifting off of her shoulders. A light sparks deep in her violet eyes—one that makes Blake’s heart stutter before she crushes it back down.

The rain pounds around them and for the first time since the she’s had this arm, Yang laughs, then looks sad. “Aw…my donuts.”

“I’ll go get more.”

Yang meets Blake’s eyes. “Thank you.”

Blake holds her gaze for a moment before breaking it with a laugh. “Like I said, I figured you would want something fatty.”

*

A few days later, Ruby wakes everyone up with a big breakfast – her own invention of French Toast pancakes, bacon, fried eggs, orange juice, the whole shebang – and they all know something is up immediately, but French Toast pancakes are delicacy that cannot be ignored, so they play along until the food is gone.

“Okay, Ruby, what are you planning?” Weiss asks as Ruby pours everyone another cup of coffee.

“What? I can’t make breakfast for my closest family and friends without having an ulterior motive?”

The reply is in unison. “NO.”

Ruby shrugs it off. “Okay, fine. I may have an…idea, I want to run by you all.”

Before anyone can ask any questions, Ruby bolts back upstairs and returns with her school bag. In a matter of minutes, she’s set up a portable projector, pulled the blinds to act as a screen, and turned off the lights.

Yang stage whispers to Weiss, “Do you know what is happening?!”

“OKAY!” Ruby reclaims attention, “If you would all kindly direct your attention to the screen—er, blinds!”

They do. They find the beginning of a power point presentation titled, _Adventure Therapy Plan: Rio De Janeiro Edition._

Weiss pinches the bridge of her nose. “Oh my god, Ruby, you didn’t.”

“I did!” she confirms, without the least bit of shame (as per usual).

Blake’s phone starts vibrating on the table and she hastily dismisses the call. “Sorry. Telemarketers,” she apologizes. “Please, go on.”

“Thank you,” Ruby smiles. “So, I know the last few weeks have been, um, well, terrible. BUT! Before all this terribleness happened, I made a discovery!”

She clicks to the next slide: A selfie with a very old, leather bound book.

“Basically, a month and a half ago now, while on location in Tunisia, I found—“

“Stole,” Weiss corrects.

“A primary source detailing clues of as to the whereabouts of each of the Relics of the Maidens!”

“Are you serious?” Yang asks, trying to hold back her interest.

“My power points are _always_ serious,” Ruby answers. Weiss coughs, but it sounds a lot like a laugh.

“As I was saying! Since I found this primary source, I, of course, want to check it out. But, given all of the aforementioned terribleness, I thought that it might be a good idea if we _all_ went to check it out!”

She clicks into the next slide: a MS Paint drawing of all four of them in a vaguely tropical setting, with the words, “Adventure Time! Feeling Better!” in twisty, rainbow block letters overlayed on the picture.

“Wow, you captured my likeness so well,” Blake teases dryly.

“I know!” Ruby continues undeterred, clicking into the next slide: A map of Rio De Janeiro and surrounding areas with a big flashing arrow pointing toward a point a little south of Rio.

“After careful examination of the source and cross-analysis of period and contemporary maps of the area, I believe the relic known as the Sword of Destruction originated from the village indicated on the map.”

Yang catches Weiss’s eye. “I assume she practiced this all on you, but I just can’t figure out when she would have had the time.”

“I practiced with Pyrrha and Jaune actually! Over skype, after everyone else was asleep.”

“Weiss, I hope you are planning to send them a bottle of wine or something,” Blake says.

“They were happy to help!” Ruby cuts in. “Moving on!” She clicks into the next slide for emphasis. It’s a collage of pictures from Rio’s biggest celebration, Carnival, with a jet and each of their heads photoshopped into the windows.

“I propose we leave next week via Weiss’s family’s spare private jet, that way we’ll be in town for Carnival even if it’s a complete wild goose chase! It will be an adventure either way, so win-win…win, I guess!”

She clicks into the final slide: a picture of Ruby with the dog Snapchat filter and the word “Please?”

Ruby turns on the lights and looks towards everyone. “So….what do you say?”

Before anyone can say anything else, Yang firmly declares, “I’m in.”

“Really?!” Ruby squeals.

Yang shrugs. “Yeah. Jetting off to Rio sounds way better than crashing in you and Weiss’s lovenest.”

“Wait a second—“ Weiss tries.

“I’m in too,” Blake announces. “I’m down to find a magical sword or go to a huge party, I guess.”

Weiss let’s her head fall facedown on the table. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

“So it’s happening? It’s happening!” Ruby can hardly contain herself.

*

Exactly one week later, the four of them are on the spare Weiss family jet bound for Rio De Janeiro.

Ruby is snoring quietly with a sleeping Weiss leaning under her chin, drooling a little. Blake is curled up, cat-like, asleep next Yang.

But Yang can’t sleep. She can’t stop flexing her new hand. And with each movement, she feels more and more.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all!  
> One thing you should definitely know is that we are using the Grimm in this fic, but we are giving them different abilities/physical properties, so...keep that in mind going forward!
> 
> Also things you should know are that the Belmond is a real (ridiculously lavish) hotel and one of their restaurants really does serve pizza.
> 
> ANYWAY, we would love a comment or two. Even if you are telling us you hate it!

No matter what she does, the dreams keep coming.

Weiss stares out the window of the jet, pockets of light dappling the landscape far beneath. Ruby breathes gently—asleep—next to her. Her hand is dropped onto Weiss’ leg, head resting on her shoulder.

Blake quietly reads a book while Yang stares out the other side of the jet flexing her hand. They seem different, Weiss thinks. They _couldn’t_ be married, that’s not how Yang operates—she knows that.

But Blake using Yang’s last name? That was a curveball—one Weiss is surprised Ruby hasn’t prodded after yet.

Ruby, though.

Weiss turns slowly turns back to the window, letting her path cross the dark haired demon occupying her thoughts. She can only imagine what her father would say. Weiss turns back to the window, teeth worrying at her thumbnail.

_The Tunisian rain had ruined everything._

_Weiss had been stuck in the hotel room she shared with Ruby for a better part of a week since it had started. Her fingers had started to itch out of unproductivity. Ruby didn’t seem to mind, though, opting to watch French dubs of Friends episodes and pour over her field notes like she used to do in college._

_“Do you want to get out of here?” It had startled Ruby, a pencil stuck in her mouth._

_“Wha?”_

_“Forget it,” Weiss growls continuing to sort through her laundry._

_Ruby spit the pencil out, crawling over her bed towards Weiss. “No, seriously.”_

_Weiss finds her eyes drawn to the edge of Ruby’s collarbone, tracing the contour up to her neck. She scowls deeper._

_“It’s not every day you’re in Tunisia,” Weiss tries again. “And I’d be remiss in staying in the stuffy hotel the whole time we’re out here.”_

_Ruby rolls her mouth around before standing. “Well, there’s the Bardo National Museum—unless you’re thinking about a movie?”_

_A movie sounded like too much of a…date. With more force than she intends, Weiss launches a bundle of clothes at the hamper, hitting the wall with a large thwack. “I’ve always wanted to see the Bardo.”_

_Ruby’s face glows. “Well, let’s go then—bet I’ll get ready before you!” She’s already digging through her clothes wildly._

_“That’s not a fair race, Ruby Rose.” Weiss attempts to sound stern, but it’s hard around her smile._

_Unfortunately, no taxi service will shuttle them in the current downpour, so they end up at a little theatre a few blocks away. Weiss, feeling over dressed for something as childish as_ Incredibles 2 _, can’t help but be a little disappointed._

_“I’ll take you somewhere nice, after—besides, this will be fun. It’s like a fancy movie date,” Ruby says after watching Weiss’ face for a beat._

_“It’s fine,” Weiss spits, a hammer striking in her chest._

_“Can’t let your outfit go to waste, I know it’s good only just this once,” she teases. Weiss can’t help the blush on her cheeks and is thankful for the dimness of the theater._

_When the lights go down, Ruby cleverly slips her arm around Weiss. And maybe, Weiss lets her._

_Weiss let’s Ruby get away with a lot, including an extravagant meal at a place Weiss doesn’t remember because they drink two bottles of wine. The red stains Ruby’s lips._

_So when they return to the hotel, in a courtyard strung with lights and with the patter of the rain on the canopy, Weiss forgets she’s a Schnee. Grabbing the front of Ruby’s blouse, she pulls her to her level and follows the electric current jumping in her chest._

_And it’s here Weiss Schnee kisses Ruby Rose for the first time._

_Drunk and all feelings, Ruby pulls Weiss closer and presses her mouth harder, backing towards their room. They stumble through the hallways, grabbing and feeling with reckless abandon until the door is closed behind them and Weiss is pulling at the zipper of her dress._

_“Hold up there, Schnee,” Ruby whispers, taking hold of Weiss hands to stop them. “We’ve had two bottles of wine and I want you to remember something from tonight if this is…if this is going to happen.”_

_“I won’t forget.”_

_Ruby smiles sadly. “We’ll see what you say in the morning.”_

_That sobers Weiss some. Because Ruby is right. Weiss will deny this all in the morning. Act like it never happened, more like. And so she lets Ruby guide her to her bed. She doesn’t protest when Ruby leaves her with her pajamas and a chaste kiss instead of climbing into bed with her._

But she doesn’t forget. That perfect night keeps Weiss up at night.

Other thoughts of Ruby do too, but Weiss is pretending those don’t exist still. One thing at a time and all that.

“Weiss, you’re thinking too loud,” Ruby grumbles, half asleep.

“I fail to see how thinking can make noise.”

“Your thoughts do,” Ruby explains with a yawn.

“I see. And how do I fix that?”

“Go to sleep.”

Weiss just sighs, lacking any witty retort or argument to that. There’s a beat before Ruby speaks again.

“I think about it too.”

Weiss feels a blush burn up her neck. She plays dumb for the zillionth time.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Ruby threads her fingers through Weiss’s.

“Whatever you say, Weiss.” It could be the fact that she was already dozing, but Ruby sounds very, very tired.

Weiss is tired too.

She leans into Ruby and closes her eyes. For the first time in weeks, she quickly falls asleep.

*

To say the Belmond is extravagant would be a disservice to the valet alone. When they roll up to the entrance in an old Rolls, Yang should have suspected Weiss couldn’t be seen in anything less than a Lambo.

It’s midmorning and the staff are already offering them flutes of champagne as they exit.

“Weiss,” Ruby starts.

“You said vacation,” she retorts before anyone can try to reason any further.

“This hotel literally has the word _Palace_ in it,” Yang snickers.

Blake slaps her lightly. “You shouldn’t have called Weiss Princess so much in college—this is karma.”

Weiss blushes furiously, her body going ridged. “Fine, if you want to go sleep in the jungle with the snakes and parakeets, be my guest.” She flips her hair and stomps in through the large glass doors into a foyer practically made of marble.

Four bellhops swarm after her, waiting for instruction. She merely waves at the car and says something probably mean, but Ruby can’t stop her, so she sighs.

Yang makes for the trunk of the car before the valet humbly stops her. “Oh no, ma’am. You’re esteemed Schnee guests—please allow us to help with all minor inconveniences.”

Suspiciously, she crosses her arms. “Am I supposed to tip you?”

“ _Yang_ ,” Blake hisses before grabbing her by the arm and pulling them both towards the lobby.

The valet blushes, holding out his hands as if to say _no worries_.

“What, it’s a valid question—or—wait, Blake!” She cranes her head over her shoulder and calls back, “Does it all go on the Schnee tab?”

“You’re esteemed guests—please feel free to enjoy the bar and restaurant at your leisure.” He nods his head.

“You’re insufferable,” Blake mutters before pulling them into the foyer away from the poor man.

“What, I’m loveable.”

Ruby awkwardly shoves her hands into the lasagna stained hoodie she had worn on the plane. Did Weiss really expect her to blend in here? At this place? The land of tiaras and Grey Goose?

She joins Blake and Yang in the foyer and waits for Weiss to return to them from the check in counter with their room keys. The annoyed twitch in her eyebrow hasn’t stopped and Ruby can’t help but want to smooth it.

She shoves her hands deeper into her pockets.

“For your _honeymoon_ ,” Weiss snorts handing an envelope out to Blake. She takes it.

Yang bursts out laughing, but she can’t hide the embarrassed blush on her face. “Who told you _that_?” She waves a hand before continuing, “Don’t be ridiculous.”

Blake awkwardly shifts next to her.

“You mean you didn’t elope?” Ruby asks, slightly confused.

Yang laughs, but it’s more like a strangled shriek. “What, no, Ruby, who gave you that idea?”

Weiss pinches the bridge of her nose, a large headache beginning to come on.

Ruby glances at Blake. “But at the hospital, the doctor’s called you—”

“They wouldn’t tell me anything,” Blake hurriedly explains. “So I did the first thing I could think of?” She tries.

“So…you’re not Miss Xiao Long, now?” Ruby’s face scrunches up.

A wolfish grin spreads across Yang’s face. “Miss _Xiao Long_?” She snakes an arm around Blake’s waist and pulls her against her chest. “What kind of cake did we have? Was it good? Or did we just skip to _dessert_?”

“I’d say get a room, but I literally just gave you one, so if you’d be _so kind_ ,” Weiss snaps. Her heart stammers in her throat as Ruby catches her gaze. And Weiss can’t help but watch her throat bob. She thinks Ruby would want a Red Velvet cake before she pales.

“Schnee is just jealous,” Yang quietly murmurs into Blake’s hair. “She wasn’t invited to our fake wedding.”

Blake shrugs Yang off, face a stone mask. Ruby isn’t sure how she always manages to look so serious, but she does.

“Okay, so, guys! We’re here! We made it! Hooray!” Ruby perks up, steering the conversation. “We still have time in the day and I’d really, really, really like to get a jump onto Sombra. If we leave in like twenty minutes we’ll still be back in time for dinner.”

She already has her journal out.

“Can we at least go up to our rooms before you start dragging us out into the heat, Lara Croft?” Weiss turns towards the elevators, assuming the answer is yes.

“Okay, fine! But pack a snack because I _do not_ want to deal with Hangry Weiss while we’re adventuring!” Ruby relents, hurrying after Weiss.

*

When Blake closes her eyes, it’s always the same thing.

Yang dangling by a mangled arm, Adam on the other end, his teeth a snarl. The flesh is ripped from her bone, and Yang screams the most pained shriek Blake’s ever heard.

It’s always present if Blake listens hard enough—awake or asleep.

Blake had dozed off on the oversized sofa looking out onto the balcony as soon as she’d set her bags down. The room smelled faintly of papaya and sea breeze.

But her nightmare freshens the memory and she wakes with a start, cool sweat licking between her shoulder blades.

Instinctively, she searches for Yang, scared she’s dreaming and they’re still really at the hospital.

Yang’s on the balcony sitting in a Jacuzzi next to the infinity pool at the balcony edge. Her hair is tied back, tank top chastely covering her swimming suit. She looks out over the rainforest, towards the coast and Blake can see the harshness in the center of those violet eyes.

She frowns.

“Hey there, sleepy head!” Yang spots her, waving from her spot. Her smile is electric—carefree. Like the way Yang always _used_ to be. Blake’s heart twists around a blade of guilt.

She musters up a small wave.

“Come on out here!” Yang motions easily with her head before resting her chin in her arms at the Jacuzzi edge. “I don’t bite.” Yang smirks, then adds, “Too hard.”

Rolling her eyes, Blake patches the holes in her heart and walks out to the balcony. She sits at the edge and dangles her feet into the water, looking everywhere but Yang.

“Ruby will probably have a heart attack if we don’t meet her soon,” Blake says.

Yang closes her eyes, shoulders relaxing under the heated water. “Nah, she texted me saying Weiss wanted to take a bath—that’ll take _hours_.”

Blake smiles. “Remember when she lost her grandmothers ring down the drain because her fingers were so pruned up—”

“—it slipped right off?” Yang finishes then laughs. “Don’t forget the part where she insisted that it had leapt off her hand.”

A genuine smile cracks Blake’s face. “Ruby was searching the drain for hours. But she rigged some way to get it. Had to make it better for Weiss.”

“It’s a wonder how that girl charmed her way into a PhD program,” Yang snorts. “She’s such a _disaster_ when Weiss is involved.”

“She’s always involved.” Blake shrugs her shoulders before kicking her feet around in the water.

“Yeah, and notice Ruby is _always_ a disaster.”

A silence settles around them. Blake watches Yang out of the corner of her eye waiting for her to say something. Instead, Yang is suddenly settled between Blake’s legs, staring up at her from the Jacuzzi intensely.

Blake starts to scoot away, unable to hide the heat in her face. Yang grabs her wrists, easily anchoring her in place. The new arm is unforgiving against Blake’s skin. Her phone begins to vibrate madly in her pocket. The base of her skull writhes.

“Who’s calling you?” Yang asks. She pulls Blake closer to the edge of the Jacuzzi, her violet eyes dark.

“No one,” Blake says. It’s hard to look away from Yang. Hard to look at anything but her lips. The urge to bite her own becomes overwhelming.

“Why you gotta lie to me, B?” Yang purrs. She pulls Blake down so their noses barely touch. Yang smirks, the darkness in her chest a companion to the one found in Blake. It had been proven time and time again since college, but Blake was always so…Blake.

“It’s no one—just Sun begging for advice.” Blake’s breath is robbed from her when Yang leans closer still, their lips barely grazing.

“Is that so?” Yang’s mouth twitches. Blake’s blood is a circuit, leaping through her heart at light speed.

She forces her eyes closed and begs silently for Yang to close the distance.

But when nothing happens after a few seconds, Blake opens her eyes just in time to see Yang splash water straight into her face. Blake scrambles back towards the safety of the inside. But Yang grabs her by the waist and pulls her back again. This time, Yang holds her above the water, clearly making sure to keep Blake’s phone dry.

“ _Yang Xiao Long_ ,” she warns.

“Blake Belladonna,” Yang mimics back.

“What are you doing?”

“What I want,” she answers before she closes the distance between their mouths and kisses Blake hard enough for the uneasiness in her stomach to subside.

Blake can still hear Yang’s scream.

*

Ruby has spent enough time with Weiss to expect lush and lavish to be words to describe nearly everything she chooses. When she treated Yang and Blake to the honeymoon suite, Ruby figured the room she and Weiss would share would be a very nice, but relatively normal hotel room.

When Weiss has to wave a special keyfob at the elevator to get it to go to the floor their room is on, Ruby knows she was wrong.

Yes, Yang and Blake get the honeymoon suite. But, Ruby comes to learn, the deluxe executive penthouse suite is much…more.

Her head is still sort of spinning from it all when she meets up with Blake and Yang at the restaurant about a half hour later. Yang is tucking into a steak and Blake has her own plate of fish.

“Ruby! Let me grab the waiter,” Yang says.

“No thanks, I’m fine.”

“You sure?” Yang probes

“Yeah, I just wanna get going and Weiss is taking forever.”

“You should still probably eat something,” Blake asserts, rolling her eyes at her phone before sliding it into her back pocket. “Breakfast was eight hours ago.”

“Well, I guess I could order something to go for me and Weiss...”

“Might I suggest the house pizza, Mrs. Schnee,” the waiter, as if appearing out of thin air, says so politely it takes Ruby a minute to take in what he said.

“Mrs… _Schnee?_ ”

Yang chokes. Blake seamlessly hands her a glass of water, holding back her own laugh. “How the tables turn.”

“Did I say something incorrect—“

“No, you’re fine. This is fine. The pizza? Yeah, that’s fine too. I’ll have two of those to go.”

“Very well, ma’am,” the waiter says, excusing himself. As if on queue, Weiss starts making her way to their table.

Before she can reach them, Ruby fixes Yang with a death glare. “Not a _word_ , or I will bedazzle your arm in your sleep.”

They are all on the road twenty minutes later, and, much to Weiss’s dismay, she’s eating her lunch out of a to-go container in the back of a beat up Jeep that needs its shocks changed.

Ruby splits her time between eating her lunch and going through her pack. She can’t help but jump when Weiss asks, “What is in there anyway?”

“Oh!” Ruby squeaks. “My pack?”

Weiss nods.

“Um, just some basic survival stuff. A few emergency blankets, first aid kit, a solar hand crank lamp, flint and steal, an AR-7—you know the basics.”

All eyes suddenly flash to Ruby.

Blake, ever the calm one, speaks first. “Ruby…why do you have a gun?”

“Oh, just in case.”

“In case WHAT?” Yang presses.

“IN CASE,” Ruby states decisively.

“You know,” the driver pipes up, “she has the right idea. Where you four are going.”

That only makes Ruby feel better.

*

“This is as far as I go,” the driver declares, pulling to a stop. Buildings can be seen on the horizon through the thick cover of trees.

“No problemo, my dude!” Ruby salutes the driver before hopping out.

“For the thousandth time, I am not Maidood,” he grumbles before spouting something in Portuguese.

“Hey, _watch it_ ,” Yang warns, shoving a finger in his face before exiting.

“What did he say?” Blake asks while shouldering her bag. A dark shadow shifts in the dark spots between trees. She stares hard, a cool sweat beginning to develop on the back of her neck.

“Called Ruby an annoying old donkey.” Yang flips her sunglasses on before casting Blake a smirk. “Only I’m allowed to do that.”

Mouth a thin line, Blake moves down the road towards Ruby who’s already halfway to the village gates babbling something inaudible. Birds chirp in the canopies, beautiful flowers in full bloom to dapple their pathway a mosaic of colors.

“Stay here,” Weiss says slowly. The driver curls his lip.

“Lady, I speak English just fine.” He follows it up with another curse—too bad Yang’s the linguist.

Weiss is offended nonetheless and puffs up her chest. “Stay here until we return—you’ll receive triple payment for your services and should you insult me further, I’ll destroy your teeny little taxi cab service.” Weiss slams the passenger door then leans on the frame. “Got it?”

He’s visibly shaken by the literal ice in her eyes and nods his head before flipping the radio on and switching the engine off.

“Good,” Weiss nods her head.

“But if you’re not back before night fall, may _donzela da luz_ guide your souls.” The name sparks interest in Weiss.

“ _Donzela da luz_?” she asks. She pulls out a small notebook. “Of what do you speak?”

Sweat beads down his neck, the stubble on his face making Weiss’ lip curl. He shakes his head before turning the radio up. “Be back before night fall, lady, or else you’ll find out.”

“ _Weiss_!” Ruby is screaming for her at the entrance to the village, an archway of tree branches outlining her flailing form.

Weiss sighs and looks to Blake and Yang. “This place is throwing up red flags to you guys too, right.”

“Yep.”

“Definitely.”

“Great, at least we’re together in this.”

But it is of little comfort as the four of them begin to walk through town. Huts line a dirt street, moss growing on the ancient stone structures. A few have crumbled, lost under the weight of time. Others look inhabited, albeit boarded up to the outside world.

An uneasiness rests on Blake’s shoulders, dark shadows flitting in and out of view, just behind huts—just turning into alleys. She holds the hilt of the machete she had thought to bring, happy she did so in this moment.

Yang falls into step next to her, fists bared and eyes scouting the tree line—old White Fang tactic. “Do you see them?” she asks under her breath. She doesn’t want to alarm Weiss and Ruby if she doesn’t have to.

“The masses in the trees?” Blake clarifies. Her grip tightens on the machete. Yang nods her head, the muscles in her jaw leaping.

“Friendly?” Yang tries.

Blake frowns then shakes her head. “Different.”

Yang grits her teeth before saying, “Yeah.”

Ruby, journal in hand, begins to pour over the text standing in front of one of the tiny homes. Weiss reads over her shoulder, hair tickling Ruby’s neck. She moves a step away, giving Weiss her space. She’d been yelled at so many times about that sort of thing.

“See here,” she says around the lump in her throat.

Weiss moves closer.

“Ruby, I don’t think we should stop here,” Yang tries.

“Pft, stop being weird, Yang.” Ruby slaps her sister’s arm before pointing back at the page she had been reading. “The trail of Sombra is clear for the Golden Dragon.”

“Yang’s right,” Blake also tries. She faces the entrance to the village, her eyes narrowed and constantly searching.

“What’s the trail of Sombra?” Weiss asks, eyeing the surrounding branches suspiciously. Every once in a while, the beams of sunlight shift.

“Well, I don’t know!” Ruby says, extremely excited about this fact apparently. “But that’s what lead me here—a quick Google search for Sombra and a minute later I was on Google earth just south of Rio and I thought—oh my god, what if this is where the relic starts? The legends always spoke of a mythical trial that the seekers of these artifacts would have to go through—maybe this is the start of that pathway!” Ruby’s face gets more and more excited the longer she speaks.

Weiss twitches and takes a step back, amazed at how long Ruby could _really_ talk without suffering a minor asthma attack. “Ruby, you used _Google_ as an academic source?” She places a hand on her chest.

“Well you try to translate Portuguese when you don’t know it, smarty-pants.” She sticks her tongue out. “Besides, it was a hunch, okay. And this section is Portuguese. And Sombra is a city just outside of Rio de Janeiro? I’m not using it in a bibliography, so just _chill_.”

“I just don’t know how you could even entertain the thought—“

“Anyway, judging by the way this is written, we need to find something that looks like a golden dragon somewhere in this—oh.”

“What is it?” Weiss asks trying to follow Ruby’s gaze.

Ruby points to the largest building in the village. “There’s one!”

On the apex of the large building’s roof sits a golden dragon weathervane. This time when Ruby takes off, Weiss keeps up. Blake and Yang are only steps behind.

Everyone stops when they arrive in front of a wrought iron gate. The hinges are rusted shut, but Ruby squeezes through the bars easily, babbling once again. She disregards the mausoleums and crypt entrances in haphazard rows. “This is surprisingly easy,” she muses to no one.

“ _Ruby_ ,” Weiss exasperated, leans against the far side of the gate. Blake watches their back as Yang tosses the iron open with a grunt. “Does this _not_ scream one of your idiotic video game prologues?”

Sheepishly, Ruby turns back to them all and hides the journal behind her back. The hairs on her neck prickle, but she writes it off as excitement.

“Maybe Ruby will awaken the undead,” Yang follows up with a ‘spooky’ _Oooo_.

Weiss rolls her eyes before stomping to Ruby and holding out her hand. “Book.”

“Weiss!” Ruby shrinks away, protectively hiding said journal. Daggers creep at the edge of Weiss’ eyes. It seems appropriate, she thinks, that they should be arguing in a derelict graveyard. Weiss snorts before crossing her arms.

“Fine. Hold your book, but can you be a _bit_ more perceptive before you _die_ or something?” Weiss, drawn to a tombstone, carefully picks her way through the wild unkempt grounds and pulls out her notebook.

Ruby smirks, running towards the direction of the large building again, hardly able to contain her self. This is everything. Everything she’d been working towards for years. Everything her Uncle Qrow had said was _true_.

Yang grabs the back of Weiss’ shirt, pulling them after Ruby. “Don’t think we should wander here, Princess.”

Blake, eyes cold, keeps up the rear. Her fingers drum lightly on the machete hilt. It makes Weiss nervous.

Inside, light filters in from the windows and cracks in the ceiling. Most of the windows are busted out, but a few cracked mosaics remain, coloring the light they refract.

The walls and floors are made of the same type of grey stone with vegetation slowly conquering and reclaiming the space for Mother Nature. Birds flitter from somewhere when they sense the humans’ arrival.

There are two sections of pews, but far more statues – possibly idols, Weiss thinks – holding candles. In the center of the room is a four-meter moss covered statue of a woman.

She’s not the Virgin Mary, and thus, Weiss thinks, feels very out of place, despite the pile of broken vases and baskets laid at her feet. Obvious signs of past offerings. She’s beautiful, as the sculptor clearly took great care to capture her curves, her grace, and, oddly, her bright smile.

“Who is she?” Weiss asks to no one in particular.

“The Summer Maiden,” Yang answers, eyes glued to the statue, a degree of awe in her voice. “This was a Summer Maiden shrine.”

For lack of better thing to do, Weiss holds up her phone and tries to take a picture that will capture the gravitas of the statue and the magic of the light and the magnitude of what she, an archeologist, is feeling right now.

She fails, but the picture is still pretty cool.

“Could I get some help over here?!” It’s Ruby from deeper in the shrine.

Weiss, Blake and Yang race in the direction of Ruby’s voice. They find her, not in life threatening danger, but trying to slam down a door with her shoulder.

_Thud._

“The door is stuck,” Ruby grumbles.

“And why do you need to break it down?” Blake asks.

“Because! This is probably the door to the village archive!”

It’s not really an answer since only Ruby knows why that is relevant to their purpose, but it’s also as close as they are probably going to get to one.

“Ughhhh, fine. Move,” Yang instructs.

“Yessss! Thank you, Yang!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Yang waves her off. She takes a deep breath, as step back, runs, and kicks the door in easily. “Open sesame.”

Ruby darts into the newly accessible room, and Weiss follows close after.

“We’ll keep eyes out here. Holler if you need anything,” Yang says.

“Got it!” Ruby says, already rifling through the room.

Yang turns back to Blake. “She might be in there for hours.”

“Oh, wonderful,” Blake deadpans, walking back towards the center of the shrine. Yang follows.

Blake’s phone starts vibrating and, annoyance clear on her face, she fishes it out of her black pocket and quickly declines the call.

“How are you still getting spam calls in _Brazil_?” Yang asks.

“Capitalism is relentless, I guess,” Blake sighs, “I should probably change my number.”

“Like you changed your name?” Yang teases.

Blake stammers, fighting the blush creeping up her neck, “That, um, that was _different_.”

“Was it, _Mrs. Xiao Long_?”

“Yang…” Blake pleads.

“Sorry, I don’t mean to tease. I just figured I’d have to like….physically fight you to take my name.”

“What?”

Yang folds her hands behind her head. “Right, it’s ridiculous. So I’ve been coming to terms with Yang Belladonna for a while now. But if you are willing—“

“ _What?!”_ Blake’s surprise reverberates off of the walls.

“Is it so shocking that I plan some aspects of my life?” Yang asks.

“You know that’s not—“ Yang waves off her words, closing the distance in between them. She gently brushes the hair out of Blake’s face.

“Isn’t the whole reason we left the White Fang so we could stop tip-toeing around this?”

Inside the shrine archive – chocked full of withering books and not nearly enough seating – Ruby finds a hollow wall.

_Knock._

_Knock, knock._

She pulls out a knife from her survival kit and quickly finds the wall’s seam, popping the panel off.

The wall reveals an ornate, crystal chalice with a golden and mother of pearl frame. She grabs it immediately and holds it above her head.

“EUREAKA!”

Weiss jumps, knocking over a candelabra, and turns to scowl at Ruby. “Was that _really_ necessary?”

Ruby, adequately scolded, clutches the chalice to her chest. “Sorry…I just…found what I was looking for. Heh.” She holds out the chalice. “Do you wanna see?”

And, despite hating this whole Adventure Therapy idea, Weiss is an archeologist so yes, she definitely does.

“What kind of question is that? Of course, I do,” Weiss says, walking over to Ruby.

“Great! So, if my translation is correct, this is part of a pair and the other part is supposed to unlock this.” She holds the journal open, comparing.

“Ruby, it’s a chalice. Those don’t unlock.”

“Yeah, it’s clearly some kind of embellishment, but I can’t figure it out…”

Back out in the main room, Yang has yet to get anything from Blake.

“Come on Belladona, don’t leave me hanging here.”

Blake takes a deep breath to answer, “Yang…” but just as she figures out what she wants to say, she notices the shadows on the wall behind them are moving.

“Blake?”

The shadows grow larger, swirling and expanding to form monstrous creatures. Blake’s eyes widen in fear. “Yang.”

“I didn’t think I was that off base—“

Blake grabs Yang’s shoulders and forces her around. “No, Yang, _LOOK!_ ”

Behind them stands an enormous black shadow wolf, its red glowing eyes focused completely on them. With each passing second, more pairs of red eyes appear in the shadows.

“ _Ruby, what did you do_?” Yang shouts, flattening her back to Blake’s, arms at the ready.

Blake pulls the machete from her hip and crouches low, amber eyes surveying.

“I think it means…” Ruby’s voice is distant.

“ _Ruby!_ ” Yang shouts again.

“What?!” She shrieks back appearing in the doorway to the antechamber. “Wha—” Her mouth pops open with a little audible snap, the smoky wolf standing on hind legs before howling a ghostly approximation of a screech.

Ruby ducks back into the chamber, flattening herself and Weiss against the wall in one fluid motion.

“So, change of _plans_ ,” Ruby starts.

“What was _that_?” Weiss tries to move around her, but stops when Ruby shakes her head and shoves both the chalice and the journal into her hands.

She begins to dig through her bag frantically. “Okay, so there were some details in the book that I thought were embellishments that I now see were quite literal.”

“ _Excuse me_?” Weiss shrieks.

Another howl rips through the room, causing her to not really _care_ at the moment.

Yang presses harder into Blake, finding the glowing eyes to be growing in numbers—thicker and thicker.

“ _Ruby, out, now_.” She yells before grabbing Blake by the wrist and bolting for the door. There’s no way they could take them all. Not with a machete, an AR-7, and a robot fist.

“We have to run, Weiss,” Ruby steals herself before arming herself with the small caliber survival rifle. “Ready?” Ruby still doesn’t forget to smile.

Weiss can’t say anything, and instead just nods her head.

Ruby takes off and Weiss follows, but is wholly unprepared for the hulking creatures. “ _What_?” She yells, catching up to Ruby quicker than she expects. The creatures swirl with a mysterious dark energy, their eyes a glowing red in patterns Weiss tries to commit to memory.

It’s pitch black outside with no light save the thousands of eyes. The creatures run through the headstones, darting behind trees silently. Save for the howls. The awful, grating howls, sounding like the shrieks of the damned.

“We lost _time_ ,” Yang shouts over her shoulder from somewhere in the middle of the headstones. A wolf lunges at her, his red eyes leaving unnatural trails in the pressing blackness. They light Yang in a fierce light, refracting off of her glinting arm like shattered glass. With a yell, she clenches her recuperating fist and slams it into the dark, snarling muzzle. The sound of cracking bones and the creature yelps as if it hurt, but Yang watches her hand fly through the blackness as if it’s nothing more than a shadow.

The wolf vanishes a second later.

Confused, Yang allows her guard to slip for a second before Blake is yelling “ _Down_.” Without hesitating, Yang drops to her knees, Blake’s machete whizzing over her head, slicing through the lunging mouth of a wolf. The sound of tearing flesh and the smell of blood stains the graveyard like a ghost.

Blake rights Yang and motions towards where they had come from as Ruby shoots off a few rounds. They pass through the shadows, ricocheting off of stone, but they still do the job.

Weiss, her face a mask of concentration, seems to be more interested in the wolves as artifacts than as dangerous animals. “These are just _shadows_ ,” Weiss says after slowing for a moment.

She comes to a halt at the entrance to the graveyard, framing herself in wrought iron before she turns back to the pressing pack. Ruby skids to a stop, heart thumping. “ _Weiss_ ,” she pleads, but it’s too late.

Three wolves lunge together, flanking Weiss so her only escape is backwards. She takes a step back, but holds her ground, certain that her theory was correct. She’s a scientist after all, and there’s no better way to test it.

And when they pass through her, Weiss knows she’s made a horrible mistake. Every atom in her body fires an emergency response, the wind stolen from her lungs. A voiceless shriek is robbed, somewhere in the throat of a wolf. And a waking nightmare shakes her, robbing Weiss of a heartbeat. She sees a woman a top of a mountain, black mist pouring from her blood red eyes.

And when she sees Weiss, she smiles and curls a cruel finger towards her.

“ _Weiss_ ,” Ruby is running straight towards her and Weiss hadn’t realized she was on the ground. Her eye stings and she realizes she’s blinking back blood.

“ _Weiss_ ,” Yang overtakes her sister, smashing her fist through the first shadow mocking Weiss’ scream. The ground shakes around a sonic boom that her fist releases, shattering a section of the graveyard wall. Yang blinks before looking at her hand.

Blake, using Yang as a spring board, leaps at the second shadow. It’s maw is wide open, serrated teeth solidifying, blood at the canines. She meets it in midair, talons ripping through her flesh as she hacks through the top half of the creatures head.

Terror spreads from the point in which the creature touched her and Blake, after rolling to a stop, stares at her arm and tries to fight off panic. Blood seeps from a few shallow cuts.

Ruby is around Weiss before she cracks a round off into the last shadow’s face. It shatters into a vapor as she pulls Weiss up. “You’re so _stupid_ ,” she yells, the anger on her face tangible.

“Blake!” Yang is trying to also pull her to her feet, but she resists, swiping at her arm in a frantic motion. “ _Ruby, what is going on_?”

“We have to leave!” There’s no time to explain.

The pack is moving in, tightening their pincer hold on the group. Yang picks Blake up, despite her panic and throws her over her shoulder. Yang had seen the look on Weiss’ face before. But only in the members of the White Fang that had been in the trenches. Shellshock. Her hold on Blake tightens.

“I wish I had a _gun_ ,” she yells at Ruby as they pass the last of the homes.

“Why are the lights on?” Weiss says blearily. Ruby hitches her higher into her arms, the rifle over her shoulder—useless.

Jaws snap at Yang’s ankles and each time they close in, terror prickles. She’s running shoulder to shoulder with Ruby by the time they reach the village exit.

The car is gone.

“ _No!_ ” Yang yells.

Maybe he’s just up the road!” Ruby tries.

“Put me down,” Blake, calm enough, asks. Yang has a crease in her eyebrows, but does as she’s asked. Taking a deep breath, Blake attempts to calm her shot nerves. She can only imagine what Weiss felt.

“The sleazy bastard _left us_ ,” Yang snarls.

Another wave of shadows attack. Yang charges, sliding low to land a devastating blow to the stomach of a shadow. As she passes through, the terror nearly breaks her concentration. She stumbles getting up, another wolf to her left.

The wicked curve of Blake’s machete slices the air, saving Yang the blow. Blake, face pale, shakes as she faces the next few that come at her.

“Ruby, _gun_ ,” Yang demands, her fists close to her body as she ducks and weaves.

“Use the arm,” Weiss says, her voice distant.

“ _What_?” Ruby squeals.

“Oh fuck yeah, Schnee.” And all Yang has to do is think _gun_ and her arm twists and pops, a barrel appearing at her wrist. The delight in her eyes would have Ruby worried under any other circumstance.

“Fall back to one of the lit homes,” Blake commands, the sweat dripping down her face glinting in the low light. It smells like blood here.

“Allow me,” Yang says, her smile elated. And when she punches, a shotgun fires, her arm rocketing back with kickback. “Yeeee!” Three shadows vanish in the wake of her buckshot.

Blake carves a careful path towards the first lit house with Yang covering her flank and back. Ruby carries Weiss between them, the rifle still useless on her shoulder. Blake tears the door open to find a small crackling fire. Her eyes burn, but at least the terror that had filled her blood was beginning to subside.

Ruby struggles in and places Weiss on the back wall away from the windows then draws her rifle. Yang fires off a couple more shots before Blake slams the door shut and bars it from the inside.

Yang grabs what she can find to help with the barricade. She doesn’t ask about the fire, a little too nervous to ask about it after the night they had had.

Shadows shift on the walls. Silence is deafening.

They maintain ranks for ten minutes before Yang finally drops her arms and peers out the window. “What are they _waiting_ for?” Eyes flit in and out of the town.

Blake stares at the door. “They could come in if they tried,” she says softly.

Ruby hunches closer to Weiss, who sits against the wall, her eyes glassy and hollow, like she’s living something none of them could see.

“Weiss?” she tries softly. “Are you hurt?”

Weiss’s eyes flash with acknowledgement, but it’s a beat before she shakes her head. “I think…it’s over.”

“What do you mean?” Ruby asks. “Weiss, look at me.”

Before Ruby can get a response, Blake pipes up from her perch at one of the windows.

“I can’t see any from my vantage point. Yang?”

“Negative. Looks like they’re gone. Or at least, there’s less of them now.”

Ruby tries again. “You hear that, Weiss? You’re safe now.”

She reaches out to rub Weiss’s shoulder. That seems to reach Weiss, as she starts to blink out of whatever state she was in.

“Ruby—“

“Alright, Schnee, there’s a _gun_ in my arm?!” Yang interrupts, but it seems to ground Weiss more. She rubs her eyes and nods.

“Yes, and several other defensive technologies R&D are trialing.” Her voice is a little wispy, but she almost sounds back to normal.

“Like what?!” Yang presses, her eyes all but literal stars.

Before Weiss can answer, Blake cuts in, putting her hand on Yang’s arm. “Yang, give her some air.” Her eyes find the floor. “One of those things scratched me and it literally felt like everything around me was dying. I can hardly imagine what Weiss felt.”

“Okay,” Ruby asserts, her voice only a little shaky, “You know what we need? Food. I have some dehydrated meals in my bag! I’ll start boiling the water.”

“What else do you have? Because it looks like we’re going to be staying here tonight.”

“I can’t believe we’re wasting our honeymoon gift!” Yang laments.

“Well, we’re in luck, I have an emergency blanket for each of us, and—“ But Ruby stops, when she hears a very restrained giggle.

They all turn to see Weiss smiling and laughing quietly. The three of them all stare at her, afraid to jinx anything.

Finally she says, “This was supposed to be a _vacation_!” She’s slaphappy and shaky, but the laughter is real.

*

The freeze-dried meals are only marginally palatable, but everyone is too starving to really complain. Plus, it seems to do what Ruby intended, which is to get everyone to calm down a little.

Weiss becomes more and more herself as the night goes on, but everyone agrees to ignore how Ruby holds Weiss for the rest of the night anyway.

“So, Schnee,” Yang says after they finish their food, hold up her arm, “I think it’s time you tell me what this baby can do.”

“Did you really think the Schnee Company was in the business of inventing purely medical prosthetics?” Weiss teases. “No, Yang, you have quite a list of tricks,” she pauses to debate, rolls her eyes and then, “ _Up your sleeve._ ”

As laughter fills the room, Ruby’s eyes are full of love in that moment, for everyone to see.

“Alright, alright,” Weiss reins everyone in, “Alright, Yang, let’s talk shop.”

“YES!”

“What do you want to know first?”

Yang goes quiet for a moment, but then, “How many total weapons are on this thing?”

Weiss grins. “Five.”

Yang and Ruby’s jaws drop, and Blake’s stomach rolls.

Blake grabs her machete and head’s for the door. “It’s getting late. I’m going to take first watch.” She looks back to Ruby. “Get me in four hours?”

Ruby nods, and Blake heads outside.

It doesn’t take much to scale the house and get onto the roof. Working in paramilitary for three years does that to a person.

It’s quiet, and dark, but other houses in the village are illuminated. Still not a soul in sight though. Blake can see the shadow creatures just beyond the village line, waiting for something, but definitely not moving to attack.

The weirdly calm tension of being on watch is comforting. It settles Blake’s stomach. She can pick Yang’s laugh out in a crowd. And it’s what she focuses on instead of the fact that Yang wouldn’t have a weaponized arm if it weren’t for her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Scream at us about this fic on the Blue Hellscape at @nataliving and @teleportingoctopi.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We don't know Portuguese or Greek, so we apologize if we butchered all of it.  
> Also, this chapter is a tad shorter, but like.......just a tad.  
> General Yangst ahead.

Her arm throbs. Dull pins and needles, sprouting from where flesh meets machine. It wakes Yang up in the early morning and keeps her there. It smells of cigarettes and she knows Blake’s been chain smoking again. It was a habit Blake came with—though Yang still tried to coerce her to quit.

Weiss, her face clear from blood is huddled near the crackling fire, the light dancing in her eyes. She briefly acknowledges Yang before turning back to the fire. A nasty gash rips across her once porcelain face. She’s lucky she didn’t lose the eye.

But it’s not like her face will ever be the same.

_Her arm is on the ground. Over there. But she’s here._

_She feels dizzy. She’s throwing up._

Yang blinks away the flashes of her aftermath. Counts back from ten in Farsi, and then again in French. And then again in Greek. Deep breath. Okay.

Ruby is sleeping next to Weiss against the wall. The journal rests in her lap. A fancy chalice refracts the flames along its golden frame. Yang’s eyes cut to Weiss again.

 _Was it worth it, Ruby_? she asks silently.

Yang stretches, rubbing her metal wrist out of habit. She stands, rolling her shoulders as she exits the hut. She closes the door behind her.

The sun dusts the horizon a very deep purple. Dawn is fast approaching. Had anyone actually relieved Blake? She hoists herself up onto the low roof, knowing that’s where the ever-illusive Belladonna would be. They’d served in White Fang together for a better part of three years and being through combat together…working guerilla warfare across the world…you learn people.

The light silhouettes Blake. The cherry of her most recent cigarette burns against the fading darkness, her amber eyes flitting at the trees edge. Yang bites her tongue, a stone dropping somewhere in her chest and crushing her lungs. She’s used to being lightheaded around Blake—having the world on an axis. That’s just what Blake does to her.

She can’t help the smile that spreads. It starts in her toes, a rushing warmth.

“Those’ll kill you.” Yang states.

Amber eyes dodge towards her briefly, Yang’s favorite secret smile twitching at Blake’s mouth.

Stretching again, Yang makes her way over and sits down next to Blake, dangling her feet over the hut’s roof. She watches the sky turn, the jungle beginning to stir to life. She takes a deep breath and leans back onto her arms, wincing for a moment as the machine part of her twinges. Yang adjusts uncomfortably.

Blake takes another long drag before putting it out and adding the filter to a small pile in one of the roof grooves. “Think these’re the least of our worries.”

“What the fuck were those things, anyway,” Yang says.

Blake shrugs, shifting closer, her hips knocking against Yang’s. “S-sorry,” she mutters before drawing her knees close and looking back out towards the jungle.

Yang smirks, her eyebrow twitching up suggestively, but she doesn’t press the matter. Because Blake’s hair is silky against the early morning light and she just can’t help but want to touch it.

They’re both a mess—covered in jungle must and blood and sweat—but Yang doesn’t think Blake’s looked any more beautiful.

“Ruby said she might have an idea,” Blake answers. “They don’t like the sunlight—or in the very least they began to retreat the second the sun started to rise.”

Yang should look out into the trees, like her White Fang training taught her to do, but she just can’t. To look away from Blake—she remembers Adam, bright red hair streaking through the tent like those creatures streaking eyes. Her limb twinges, the imaginary bone twisting. A cool sweat springs along the back of her neck.

“Ruby’s really fucked us all this time, hasn’t she,” Yang tries. It comes out meaner than she intends. A shamed blush bursts along her ears. “I mean—” Blake shifts, touching the gash in her arm.

Between her and Weiss, they’d really all seen better days.

“Ruby’s just being Ruby,” Blake says before standing. “You know that better than anyone.”

Yang sighs. “She is really just a well intentioned _goon_.” It comes out harsher then she meant again. Her throat dries up. Yang stares at her arm, frowning. “After all, it’s not even really her fault to begin with, isn’t it.” Yang can feel Blake stiffen. And she wants to assure her. But she can’t.

She rubs her right hand. She desperately wants to crack her knuckles.

Neither of them breathe.

“Y-Yang,” Blake stammers.

She can feel him hacking, her nonexistent flesh peeling away. Yang grips her new arm, remembered pain picking her heartbeat up. “Anyway,” she says around gritted teeth.

_Déka. Ennéa._

“We shouldn’t sit around all morning. Losing daylight and all that.”

 _Októ. Eptá._ _Éxi._

She leaps down without making eye contact with Blake and enters the hut.

_Pénte. Téssera._

Deep breath.

_Tría._

_Dýo._

_Énas._

Okay.

*

When Yang returns, Ruby and Weiss are both awake, breaking down the camp.

“Morning, Yang,” Ruby chirps, entirely too happy for the situation that they’re in.

“Mornin’.”

“Would you like some instant coffee? Weiss and I made a whole thermos worth—“

Yang’s eyes seem to flash red. “You used what little water we have….on shitty coffee?”

“Oh, well, I figured it would be fine—“

“God, Ruby, you just don’t get it do you?” Yang booms. “Blake got hurt. _Weiss_ got hurt. This isn’t some weekend camping trip. We are _stranded_ in an abandon village, _miles_ from civilization, with absolutely no way to—“

Suddenly, Weiss is thrusting a small tin cup of cloudy coffee into Yang’s hand.

“Ruby bought us all Lifestraw filters,” Weiss says evenly. She meets Yang’s eyes. “I’m fine. _Blake_ is fine. Just drink the damn coffee.”

Yang holds her stare for a beat, and then takes the coffee with an about-face, storming back outside, mumbling French under her breath.

“She’ll be fine after she has some caffeine,” Weiss reassures.

“She has a point though,” Ruby admits, shame creeping into her voice. Weiss turns to take her in with a small smile.

“I’ll admit, maybe the concept of ‘Adventure Therapy’ is a tad foolhardy,” she says softly, taking Ruby’s hand. “But I think you’re onto something because, one, Yang is experiencing emotion _and_ Yang and Blake are clearly talking again, and two,” She places her other hand on Ruby’s, making sure to have her gaze. “I really do think you are onto something with these relics. Because everyone knows bad guys show up when you are getting close to a cutscene.”

She’s using Ruby’s own words on her, but it works because Ruby can’t fight the smile from spreading on her face. “You _also_ have a point,” Ruby says with a quiet laugh.

Her face pales when she catches the fresh scar tearing at Weiss. Ruby bites her lip before dropping her hands and fussing about the rest of their limited gear. Weiss’ face freezes, arms crossing as she stares back at the never-ending fire. “Yang also has a point, though. We need to move,” Ruby says while slinging both the rifle and her pack over her shoulder.

Ruby finishes her small cup of coffee before dumping the rest of the brew in a small thermos for Blake. She tries not to look at Weiss, but it’s hard when she looks at her that way. Like she wants to say something, but her morals stop her. Or obligations? Or something, Ruby isn’t really quite sure exactly what it is.

But the way Weiss finally brings her own mug to her lips has Ruby slowing just a bit. She hasn’t forgotten the way they taste. Or the way they stirred something Ruby had thought she’d finally defeated. But there is Weiss. Cleaning out her mug with a bloodied handkerchief with a worried frown on her face.

She reaches for the door before Weiss stops her. It’s not with words, but a single touch. The slide of a palm across the small of Ruby’s back. It shakes shivers down her spine, the hairs on the back of her neck rising. Weiss rests her hand there briefly before moving by Ruby and pushing the hut door open.

*

“We scout a hundred meters out in each direction from this village and reconvene at 0800,” Blake says, matter-of-factly. She rubs the gash on her arm every once and a while as they huddle beneath the cool shade of a tree.

It’s already humid and it really isn’t doing Weiss’ hair any favors. She attempts to smooth it while Blake takes charge. Yang scowls near her, arms crossed.

“Splitting up in an overgrown jungle when only one of us knows the local language sounds like a _terrible_ idea,” Weiss snaps.

Ruby shifts on her feet. “I mean…I think three out of four of us would be fine? You can stay here, if you want.” Ruby smiles.

An angry blush flashes across Weiss’ nose. “That’s not what I’m implying.”

“Come on, you two would both slow us down,” Yang mutters.

Weiss curls her lip. “Did you sleep on a pea or something?”

“Don’t come at me with your scholarly bullshit.” Yang flicks her glasses out of her pocket before placing them on her face.

“Seriously? You’re going to act _this_ way?” Weiss motions up and down towards Yang. Yang snorts, bitterly looking out towards the trees.

Ruby and Blake take a small step back, attempting to get out of the fallout zone. “Weiss,” Ruby starts, but is interrupted.

“No, Ruby. She’s acting like a _child_ and right now, we can’t afford to let _children_ lead us. It’ll only get us in reckless situations.” Weiss quickly adds, “ _Other_ reckless situations.”

“Oh stuff it,” Yang growls before flipping Weiss off.

“Look, we just need to get back to civilization,” Blake reasons. “There’s no reason to fight.”

“Right.” Yang says sarcastically.

“Weiss and I will go North,” Blake says firmly. Ruby looks a little crestfallen. “You and Ruby go South. We will meet back here and if needed, we can discuss our East and West options. Can you do that?”

A flicker of guilt crosses Yang’s face before it sours again. She stomps off towards the South, using the sun as a guide.

Blake frowns after her, but knows she’s not what Yang needs—even if she’s what Yang wants. She slides the machete from its sheath before turning in the opposite direction, pausing to catch Weiss’ eyes. “Come on,” she says softly.

Weiss glances at Ruby before nodding her head and turning North.

Shoulders drooping, Ruby follows after Yang and prays they find at least _something_.

*

It takes more time than Blake would like to put the village behind them, on account of Weiss stopping to inspect every little pile of rubble returned to Mother Nature. “We can’t afford to take stops,” she tries, but Weiss ignores her completely, staring at a stone nestled deep into a cliff face.

Sighing, Blake sheathes her weapon before leaping up into a low tree branch.

“Hey,” Weiss says.

“Don’t worry, I’m just going to get a better vantage point.” She begins to slide up into the higher canopy before adding, “I won’t leave your sight.”

Weiss looks back at the rock, pulling her notebook out of her tattered jacket pocket. “Fine, just be quick about it.”

Blake rolls her eyes, wanting nothing more than to say _Take your own advice_ but she doesn’t. It’s never worth it with Weiss.

Her arm burns as she hoists herself higher, the wound developing a heartbeat. But years in the White Fang have her shaking it off—compartmentalizing the pain into a deep recess of her mind. It throbs there dully, but she focuses towards the smaller branches of the tree.

“Blake,” Weiss calls from down below. She ceases her climb before dangling her feet over a branch and peering down at her companion. Weiss holds her notebook to her chest a concerned frown wrinkling her face.

“What?” Blake looks over the tops of the trees, scouring the canopy for any signs of human life. To the West, she sees a small clearing in the thick trees—possibly a settlement. Up high, Blake can hear the crashing waves of the ocean.

“There’s something we need to discuss.” Weiss looks back at the moss covered rubble, shifting away from it uncomfortably.

Blake marks the location of the small clearing in her mind, mentally mapping it as best as she’s able. She leaps down the branches like a well-trained acrobat before landing in the soft dirt in front of Weiss.

“Go on.” An uneasiness begins to sit on Blake.

“When…when I was—” Weiss stops before changing direction “—when those things attacked you…did you see anything?” Flashes of red eyes. Seeping mist. The metallic stench of blood and sulfur. Weiss draws a finger down her wound.

Blake raises an eyebrow. “N…no?” Her arm begins to tingle.

“Oh.” Weiss’ shoulders droop.

“But I felt something,” Blake quickly adds.

Weiss studies her face, clearly mulling something over. Blake drops her hand to her hip and waits. If Weiss wants to say something, she will. If she doesn’t, Blake isn’t one to pry. “Like the deepest dread you could ever imagine,” she continues.

“These things,” Weiss starts by opening up to a page in her notebook. There, she’s sketched a rough image of one of the wolves that they had faced in the graveyard. “I think…they’re being controlled.” A detailed mask bleeding from the creature’s eyes covers its muzzle.

Blake’s arm lightly twinges, a coolness seeping from the gash into her bones. “That’s…not what they looked like, though. Don’t you…remember?” She tries to read the notes Weiss has written next to the creatures, but the notebook snaps shut before she can make any sense of it.

“I _know_ that.” Weiss crosses her arms. “But I _also_ know that’s their true form.” The arcing red lines, writing an inscription across the beasts’ faces. They burn prophecies into Weiss’ mind. She touches her scar before turning her back to Blake.

Blake frowns, placing a hand on Weiss’ shoulder. “What are you saying?” Her heart begins to pick up in her chest. The dread prickles at the base of Blake’s neck.

Weiss nods her head, seeming to decide something before she points towards the stone in the cliff face. “This used to be a guardian shrine.” She walks over to the rock, fingers running over the ridges of chipped carvings.

“What makes you say that?” Blake approaches, looking at the rock, but seeing nothing but that. A rock.

“You don’t see it?” Weiss is alarmed now.

“See…what?” Blake looks around, but finds nothing.

“The _lines_.” She traces an arc along the surface of the rock. “It’s the same on those wolves.”

“Did they come from here?” Blake tenses.

“No.” And Weiss knows this is as true as any fact. “At least, not originally, I don’t think.”

Blake, thoroughly confused, squints at Weiss. “I’m not…following.”

Weiss blushes then waves a hand through the air. “It’s just a feeling, for all intents and purposes, yes. I’d say they came from here—at least…in an occult sense.”

“You mean like a portal?” Blake places a hand upon the stone, a dark energy beating into the palm. She withdraws and holds her hand close.

“Maybe. I don’t know, I’m going to have to study these markings further.” Weiss indicates to her notebook. “Chances are, Blake, this isn’t the only shrine in this area, which means—”

“Chances are we haven’t seen the last of them.” Blake frowns.

Weiss falls silent, affirming Blake’s suspicion.

“Do you think they’ll ever stop, now that we’ve disturbed them?” The idea of waking to a smoky wolf creature on her chest churns her stomach.

“I don’t know,” Weiss turns back towards the jungle. “But I’m afraid of what else we might uncover.”

Blake nods, furrowing her brow, resigned to the unknown. “Well, we should keep going. I think there’s a small village about a klick further.”

“Maybe they’ll have answers,” Weiss muses.

“I’m really just hoping for some horses,” Blake says, redrawing her machete. “Come on, I need to get a better vantage point before we rendezvous with Ruby and Yang.”

*

Yang hasn’t said a word since they left the rendezvous point. Which, Ruby admits, has only been like 20 minutes. But still, Yang’s brooding silence is suffocating.

“So,” Ruby starts, “How are…you?”

“Peachy.”

Ruby winces. “I know that’s not true.”

Yang wheels around to face Ruby so fast that Ruby almost runs right into her.

“What gave it away? My traumatic amputation or the fact that we were _attacked_ yesterday and my—Blake got hurt, and your—Weiss got _really hurt_ and you don’t seem to care?” Her fists are clenched.

Ruby tosses her glance to the ground. “I don’t care?” Her voice is small.

“Ruby—I’m—”

“This was all _for you_ , Yang!” Angry tears prickle at Ruby’s eyes. She lands a punch on Yang’s shoulder as hard as she can. “And you’re acting like such a _brat_. Of course I care—about Blake. About…about Weiss. Don’t you think I know that’s all my fault?”

Yang snaps her mouth shut, as Ruby plows on, sobbing now.

“I just wanted us to like— _forget_ about all the crap for a second and maybe pretend we’re Lara Croft like we used to do when we were little. I didn’t mean—I didn’t _know_ how real it would be.”

“That’s just it, Ruby!” Yang snarls. “We aren’t Lara Croft. We aren’t even fucking _treasure hunters_.” She motions up and down. “You’re a scholar and I’m a rejected linguist. Blake is a fucking guerilla and Weiss is just a rich girl who never had to get out of daddy’s pocket.”

Ruby sighs, angrily rubbing at the tears. “I just thought it would be _fun_.”

“Well this isn’t fun, Ruby. Blake getting hurt? Not fun. Weiss getting her eye nearly plucked out? NOT FUN.” Yang slams a fist into a tree trunk, the branches shuddering, leaves falling slowly.

“I _know_ you’re going through a lot,” Ruby starts. “I know you’re hurting.” She slowly pulls the chalice from her pack. “And I _know_ a psychopath chopped your arm off and you’re still processing that— _I’m still processing that_ —but, Yang. This is what we always _dreamed_ of.” She holds the chalice out.

Yang looks at it briefly before softening just a fraction. “W-we really were stupid hoosiers.”

The derogatory term pulls a genuine laugh from Ruby.

“Running around like feral idiots.” Yang rolls her eyes and takes the offered chalice before looking at it. “It is…pretty exciting, I guess.”

“Listen, we found something, Yang. We _found something_! This is what Weiss and I have been working towards for years! We went to Tunisia hoping to uncover a dumb clay pot, _at best_ , and instead!” Ruby pulls the journal out next and opens it to the first page.

The scrawling ink is beautiful—hard to read Latin primarily. But there’s bits of Portuguese, bits of Arabic, phrases in the old English Vernacular. Pieces of old French. Yang stills, confused, the linguistic side of her brain taking over.

“What the _fuck_ is this, Ruby?” She takes the journal and begins to flip through the pages. There are illustrations of different regions—a mountain peak on one page—the deepest caves on another. An arctic tundra. Sweltering jungles. And on a dog eared page, Yang finds an illustration of Ruby’s chalice. She compares them side by side, the text surrounding in Portuguese.

“This is what legends are made of Yang,” Ruby says. Her cheesy grin has Yang bleating out a sharp laugh.

“Bold of you to assume you’re a legend, Widdle Wosie.” Yang puckers her lips and mocks her sister.

Ruby blushes before snatching the journal back and stuffing it in her pack. “You’d never make it out here without me and you _know_ it.”

Yang sticks her tongue out before handing the chalice back as well. She winks, her earlier mood seeming to disintegrate. “I guess a treasure hunter needs a sidekick—you can come along.” Yang turns back towards the jungle, smirking when she hears Ruby huff.

“Hey!” Ruby flies after her, tackling Yang with her shoulder before sending them both to the ground in a fit of laughter. “ _You’re_ the sidekick here, Duke Nukem.” Ruby flicks Yang’s glasses off.

“Hasta la vista, baby.”

They reach the end of their hundred meters with no signs of anything but jungle ahead of them, but Yang is still grateful for the time. The knots in her stomach begin to unfold as they return to the rendezvous point.

*

Weiss is relieved to see Ruby and Yang laughing and joking as she and Blake return from the north. At least maybe now, they’ll be back to normal.

Yang waves to them as they get closer. “South is not the way to go unless we wanna end up dehydrated and probably lost eventually. I hope you two faired better.”

“We did,” Blake says with a small smile. “It might be a small village or a farm. About a klick further northwest. We could be there in a little over an hour.”

“Thank god,” Yang breathes. “Let’s go. No reason to stay here.”

“Hold on, shouldn’t we think about this?” Ruby cuts in.

Blake and Yang pause and turn back. “What is there to think about?” Yang retorts.

“Yang’s right, Ruby,” Blake confirms. “We need to find a phone or someone to might give us a ride back to Rio. We’re too far away to safely make the trek back ourselves.”

Weiss takes Ruby’s hand, reassuring her. “Don’t go over thinking things now, Ruby.”

And she wants to argue that maybe she should. Maybe if she did—maybe if she gave just one thing a second thought—Weiss wouldn’t be sporting a new pink scar through her eye.

But instead she squeezes Weiss’s hand and let’s her lead them north right behind Blake and Yang.

They make good time, Weiss and Blake both taking note of how many similar stones they come across along the way. Five in total. It isn’t long before they come across a dirt road to follow which leads them to a wooden fence and gate.

“It’s a homestead,” Blake confirms, sheathing her weapon. “Yang, you should lead since your Portuguese is the best.”

“Aw thanks, babe,” Yang says with a wink. Blake rolls her eyes, but she can’t fight the blush that creeps across her cheeks.

They are only a few yards into the homestead when they see a young man in the fields. Yang calls out to him in Portuguese.

_“Hey there! I don’t mean to intrude!”_

The boy looks up from his work and calls back. _“Visitors?”_ He jogs over to them with a wave. _“Hello, I’m Oscar. I’m happy for the break, but my family’s farm isn’t exactly a tourist destination.”_

 _“And we aren’t exactly tourists. I’m Yang,”_ she holds out her hand. The boy shakes it, smiling. “ _We’re traveling through the area and as you can see, we got a bit...stranded.”_

 _“A bit,”_ Oscar says with a laugh, “You’re lucky I speak English.”

“Oh thank god,” Weiss blurts. “You don’t know _how much_ I was regretting my lifelong French education for the last ten minutes.”

“It’s okay,” Oscar says. “How can I help you guys?”

“Well we just came from a deserted village about a kilometer southeast of here—“

“Hold, you came from _Aldeia das Fantasmas_?!”

“Like I said, we’re not exactly tourists.” Yang shrugs, before waving her metallic arm in the air.

“And you---and you aren’t dead?” Oscar eyes the fresh gash on Weiss’ face. “You encountered them and you are still here?” He runs a hand through his hair and begins to pace.

Blake places a hand on his shoulder. “We took shelter in a little hut.” His eyes bug.

“You _entered lar do mal_?” He stumbles back towards the barn, the color in his face running dry.

“Uh…it was just a little house?” Ruby says nervously. Oscar shakes his head.

“And was there a fire, yes?”

“Suppose…there was?” All eyes bear down on Ruby. Yang, Blake, and most harshly, Weiss.

“Then…you are lucky—or very _unlucky_.”

“What do you mean?” Ruby was very used to being unluckily lucky. It just came with the territory.

He looks back towards his home and motions towards the porch. “Come. Rest for a bit. The jungles are not the most hospitable place and I think you might want to sit.”

They enter into a small home—empty since Oscar explains his family was in town selling as they often did. He pulls a few extra chairs up to the farmhouse table, fussing about with a mess in the kitchen before joining them all at the table.

“Sombra— _Aldeia das Fantasmas_ —was once a small village under the protection of _donzela da luz_ —the maiden of light.” Oscar lights a little lamp in the center of the table before settling in a chair. The shadows dance across his face. Weiss opens her notebook, flipping back a few pages before she starts to scribble.

“The driver talked about this,” Ruby says with a snap. “What happened there?” Weiss nudges her to be quiet.

“Some people believe the guardians became angry with the sisters there—some people believe _donzela da luz_ abandoned Sombra to the _sombrio_. No one really knows for sure—just that after the fall of Sombra, the land was renamed _Aldeia das Fantasmas_ and the _lar do mal_ began to appear outside of the old cemetery.” Oscar shivers.

“ _Lar do mal_? House of evil?” Yang leans closer. “We stayed in a _house of evil_?” She turns towards Ruby. Beneath the table, a hand grips her knee. Blake shakes her head, but never looks away from Oscar.

“It didn’t seem… _that_ evil.” A blush appears on Ruby’s face. “B-but, what about the chalice?” Taking her chance to direct the conversation, Ruby pulls said chalice out and slams it on the table.

Oscar blinks before his mouth comes unhinged and he leaps back from the table, a light sheen on his face. “ _C_ _álice da descoberta.”_ He makes a motion in front of his chest—one almost akin to a catholic sign—but different. Weiss takes note. Naval, Right shoulder. Heart. “You…where did you…how did you… _who are you people_?”

“Oh….yanno…just regular old scholars.” Ruby waves a hand in front of her face before laughing nervously.

“Not tourists, remember?” Yang grins.

“Clearly unprepared,” Blake mutters.

“Are you seeking _Espada da Morte_?”

A silence settles through the room.

“We seek the truth,” Weiss says before snapping her notebook closed.

“This is no truth,” Oscar says, eyeing the chalice carefully. “This is a dangerous thing man should never have been gifted.” He sits back down at the table and touches the rim of the chalice before withdrawing his hand. “ _Espada da Morte_ is a burden.”

“I only want to study it,” Ruby says quickly. “I’m not here to like, I don’t know, destroy the world or something—I just want to take a few pictures, write my notes, and like, write a whole dissertation on the Maiden Relics. That’s all.” Weiss’ lip curls, knowing that’s only the tip of the Ruby Rose iceberg.

“Don’t lie to the poor boy,” Weiss says kicking Ruby beneath the table.

Ruby mouths a quick _ow_ before she grumbles an addition, “It’s a lost artifact, okay. A lost artifact I’ve dreamt my whole life of retrieving and if I could just—” Ruby sighs and leans back in her chair. “—we deserve to know. This whole legend has been covered up in myth and time too long. If this was Atlantis no one would be whining.”

“This was _supposed to be_ a vacation,” Weiss reminds. “However,” she taps her notebook thoughtfully. “We’ve learned more about the Maidens and their relics than _anyone_ ever has recorded before—”

“In a matter of _hours_ —” Yang interrupts while holding up a finger.

“—we may as well follow these leads.”

“Makes you wonder where all the other interested parties went,” Blake says. “If it was this easy for _us_.”

“The _sombrio_.” Oscar stares at a fixed point on the table. “You must be prepared.” He picks up the chalice and looks inside. “Once this is complete, they’ll find you and give you the answers to questions you never asked.” He shivers and slides the chalice back towards Ruby.

“Complete? You mean this isn’t?” She picks it up and looks inside as well.

Oscar frowns before deciding something. “If you are who you say you are—and if you were granted into _lar do mal_ , you should speak with the sisters in _Caminho das Pedras_. They know far more about these things than I.” The way Oscar hides his eyes endears him to Yang.

She ruffles his hair. “Aw, thanks, kiddo! Where’s this _Caminho das Pedras_?”

“Shouldn’t we be going back into _town_?” Weiss huffs. “I’d like to at least _change_ my clothes and wash my hair before seeing any other people. I’m hardly presentable.”

“ _Caminho das Pedras_ is about a day and a half ride away.”

Blake leans back in her chair. “And horses? May we borrow those?”

“ _Horses_?” Ruby’s eyes could be stars. “Weiss we get to ride _horses_ in the _jungle_ in _South America_.”

“So am I the only one for the hotel? Seriously?” Weiss stares at each of her companions in turn, attempting to turn at least _one_ to her side. She can’t even get Ruby to waiver.

“I…I suppose I could lend you two of our stock, but I would need them returned. Father wouldn’t be happy if they went missing.” Oscar rubs the back of his neck.

“We are not thieves,” Blake assures. “Your horses would be returned promptly and in one piece,” she eyes Ruby warily.

“I…I guess I can help you.” Oscar stands and begins to buzz around the kitchen, pulling out a hunk of bread, some cheese, nuts. “Try to avoid the berries here,” he mentions. “Clean up, I’ll go get everything ready. Just meet me outside.”

It’s not until they are all doubled up on the horses that Oscar gives them another warning. “ _Sombrio_ will come for you again—as long as you have that cup. Never…never sleep alone.” The nervousness in his voice is matched by his wave as they begin to move through the trees into the jungle.

*

Even with the horses, traveling is slow going. Traversing through the thick, uneven jungle is difficult, and so the sun sets with them still hours away from their destination.

As soon as the sun begins to sink, the shadow creatures return, lurking just beyond the group’s line of sight.

When Ruby feels Weiss tighten her grip around her waist at the snap of a twig, she decides to signal to Yang that it’s time to make camp. Together they clear underbrush, and Weiss surprises everyone by getting a fire started.

Just as the sunset gives way to the night sky, the girls settle down to a meal of cheese, fruit and bread that Oscar sent them off with.

Although, Weiss had to force Ruby to stop fiddling with the chalice and eat.

Once the food is put away, Yang and Blake take horses to find water, and Ruby resumes her fiddling. Not five minutes after finishing her portion, she was back it – turning the artifact every which way.

“What do you think you’ve missed at this point, Ruby?” Weiss asks tiredly. “You’ve examined literally every angle.”

Ruby takes a beat to answer, sitting up from her newest position: bent to the side so she could literally view the chalice as if she were hanging upside down. “Well, apparently not!” she spits with a frustrated sigh. “You heard Oscar. This thing needs to be completed, which means it’s only half of what we need to learn the relic’s location.”

“Right, so there’s no point in bending into a pretzel over it,” Weiss retorts.

Ruby thrusts the chalice out in front of her in frustration. “But if I—“ she cuts herself off, freezing her arms in place.

“If you what?” Weiss prods.

“No, Weiss, look,” Ruby answers, holding the chalice at an angle above the campfire.

Weiss follows Ruby’s gaze to see lights playing against the ground in weirdly specific oblong shapes. Weiss almost recognizes the profile of a few.

She scoots closer to Ruby, trying to get a better view. “Are those—Is that?—“

“It’s a map,” Ruby confirms. “Or—it will be when we get the key that shapes the light the rest of the way.”

Weiss can’t help but beam at Ruby. “We have a map.” The simple statement doesn’t do her feelings justice. “We have a map _directly_ to one of the Relics of the Maidens.”

Ruby beams right back. “Almost. Just gotta get one last piece.” She takes Weiss hand, grinning. “See, I told you this wasn’t a wild goose chase.”

Weiss smiles, holding Ruby’s gaze a little too long, but before either of them can question it, Yang and Blake return with the horses. The night watch order is decided between them, and they quickly settle in for the night.

Later, Blake wakes up shivering and that shouldn’t be the case. Because she was awake, taking her turn at watch, and the fire was blazing. It was so warm and wonderful that she just went to close her eyes for a moment, and—

The jolt of adrenalin she feels realizing that she fell asleep on watch physically hurts.

A muzzle growls inches from her face, a claw seeping into her chest. The panic starts—just like her dream—the eyes arcing across the skull in flashes. There is static snapping her veins, the hairs on the back of her neck high.

“Y-Yang,” she whispers, her hand shooting to the right, grasping Yang’s forearm.

Yang murmurs in her sleep, but does not wake.

The creature leans closer and she can smell its breath—like rotten foliage and forgotten dungeons. It robs the wind from her lungs.

Turning away from the creature, Blake’s eyes focus on the many pairs of glowing red eyes surrounding their camp. She gasps and the shadows all growl back.

“Yang!” Blake yells.

Next to her, Yang bolts up right, activating the gun on her arm. She blasts the shadow perched on Blake’s chest, the shotgun shattering the silence. Ruby and Weiss jerk awake but it takes a few beats for them to start moving. Ruby scrambles to gather her pack while Weiss moves to the horses.

“Blake, draw your weapon,” Yang says while pulling her to her feet. It’s a calm reminder in the middle of a storm. “EVERYONE, _MOVE_ _NOW_.”

Yang shoots off another round as she sprints to help Ruby load the horses. It’s difficult as they neigh and rear up in fear of the creatures that surround them. Ruby lifts Weiss onto a horse and pulls herself up behind her.

“Don’t wait for us,” Yang calls to her, pulling herself up on the other horse. “We’ll catch up.”

“But Yang—“

“We’ll _catch up_. GO!”

Blake slashes through shadow after shadow, dodging and ducking the blows that come her way. Faint dread still remains, building with each duck and weave.

“Incoming!” Relief floods through her at the sound of Yang’s voice.

She turns just as Yang approaches with her hand out. Blake takes it and is easily hoisted on the back of the horse.

“You on?”

“Go!”

Yang clears their path with half a dozen rounds, galloping after Ruby and Weiss.

Like Yang promised, they catch up quickly, but the shadows are in hot pursuit. For a few minutes, all that can be heard is the huffing of the horses and the scrabbling of the shadows. The horses whip through the trees, branches and brambles catching arms and faces.

“Come on, come on,” Yang hopes through gritted teeth, she can feel the shadows gaining on them with every step. There’s a stinging welt beneath her eye. Blake clings to her back, face buried between her shoulders.

“Light, up ahead!” Ruby yells.

“But there’s smoke too!” Weiss follows.

“We don’t have a choice. They’re gaining on us.” Yang decides, pushing her horse to its limit.

A tense eternity passes before the jungle breaks to the outskirts of a village.

A village on fire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Scream at us about this fic on the (Now Darker) Blue Hellscape at @nataliving and @teleportingoctopi.

**Author's Note:**

> You can follow us both on the Blue Hellscape/Tumblr using our same usernames for updates and probably text posts where we whine about everything related to this AU. Maybe scream at us about it???


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